"That is..."
When everyone present saw the appearance of the longsword gripped in the White Dragon's hand, shock washed over their faces. Instinctively, they all turned their gazes toward Artoria and the Sword of Promised Victory in her hand.
Even Artoria herself was taken aback upon seeing the sword in Vortigern's grasp. She subconsciously lowered her head, comparing her Excalibur with the black sword back and forth.
The reason was simple: they were too similar.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, the black longsword clutched in Vortigern's dragon claw—aside from its red-black color—was identical to Artoria's Holy Sword of the Planet in every other aspect, be it shape or pattern.
Others might not know, but the Knights of the Round Table, as the King's most trusted vassals, were extremely familiar with the King's Holy Sword.
With just a cursory glance, they could tell how similar the black sword was to the Holy Sword.
And because of this, they were profoundly shocked.
That was the Holy Sword of the Planet, a Divine Construct forged by the fairies of Paradise spurred by the Will of the Planet.
If it merely looked similar, that would be one thing. But if it was just a visual imitation, why would Vortigern bring this sword? And why, when their eyes fell upon that black sword, did their own Holy Swords tremble?
Involuntarily, due to the appearance of this sword, the morale of Gawain, Lancelot, and the other Knights of the Round Table suffered a massive blow.
In Britain, weapons were extremely important.
In most cases, the weapon made the knight, not the knight the weapon.
This was exactly why Gawain and the others were so shocked to see that black sword.
They might not know the significance and caliber of the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad, but they knew very well what the Sword of Promised Victory represented.
To all of Britain, and indeed the world, the status of this sword was of paramount importance.
"How is this possible...?"
Feeling the throbbing from Excalibur in her hand, Artoria's expression became incredibly grave once more.
A White Dragon Vortigern was already difficult enough to deal with. Now, he possessed a black Holy Sword suspected to be of the same caliber as the Holy Sword of the Planet.
No matter how resolute her heart was, Artoria still felt a sense of powerlessness, as if he were impossible to defeat.
Right at that moment, a gentle, yet somewhat ethereal and illusory voice abruptly rang out across the battlefield again.
"Do not let him bluff you, Lily."
"Merlin!!!"
Hearing this familiar voice, the initially demoralized group instantly felt a surge of joy and instinctively looked toward the sky.
At some unknown point, the sky above the battlefield had become filled with floating petals.
These petals seemed to appear out of thin air, freely drifting down and filling the sky over the entire battlefield.
And Merlin's figure appeared amidst this shower of flowers. As he landed, flowers spread from beneath his feet like a tidal wave, quickly turning the scorched earth blackened by dragon fire into an endless sea of flowers.
Under the blue sky, the knights, the sea of flowers, the White Dragon, and the Magus formed a bizarre yet poetic and beautiful scene.
Slowly walking to Artoria's side, as if to soothe her tense emotions, Merlin gently placed a hand on her shoulder. His lips still bore that spring-breeze-like smile.
"Rest assured, Lily. It is impossible for the Vile King to gain the recognition of the Holy Sword. The sword in his hand is merely a forgery, imitating the Holy Sword of the Planet using a reversal Magecraft."
"Is that so?"
As Merlin's disciple, Artoria naturally trusted this 'teacher' who had guided and protected her since childhood. Hearing his words, the heavy stone in her heart lifted slightly.
It was just that...
Recalling the throbbing Excalibur had just transmitted to her, Artoria was still somewhat worried.
If it is merely a forgery, why did the Holy Sword respond to it? Why did it even transmit to me the intent that it must be destroyed?
"Heh, you truly have no shame boasting like that, Incubus."
Vortigern, who had paused his actions due to Merlin's sudden appearance, sneered upon hearing the other's words.
Without the slightest hesitation, the massive and ferocious Demonic Dragon swung the black Holy Sword, sweeping it toward Merlin and Artoria.
"Since you say this sword is merely a forgery, let your blood bear witness to its power."
Whoosh—
The black Holy Sword, as tall as a small building, swung down with terrifying wind pressure and a howling sound, as if intent on cleaving Merlin and this sea of flowers in half.
"Merlin, watch out!"
Seeing this, Artoria instinctively stepped in front of Merlin with her sword. As her Dragon Core beat and she breathed, a massive stream of magical energy materialized as particles of light upon the Holy Sword.
But before the young girl could swing her sword, the Incubus's calm and confident voice interrupted her action.
"Rest assured, Lily. I am here."
The next moment, the black Holy Sword cleaved down. Its natural disaster-like power instantly gouged a trench in the ground that looked like divine punishment.
But that was all.
When the smoke cleared, everyone was shocked to find that Merlin's body had turned into countless shattered petals. Not far away, countless flowers gathered to form a new Merlin.
Meanwhile, Artoria found herself standing beside Gawain, looking bewildered.
"It's useless, Vortigern. Every flower here is my incarnation. Unless you can destroy all the petals in a single breath, you cannot kill me."
Looking at the massive and twisted White Dragon, Merlin spoke.
He had a smile on his lips, his words full of absolute confidence.
"Do you think I cannot do that, you disgusting Incubus?"
Seeing this, Vortigern raised the black Holy Sword high. A murky black light climbed up it like maggots on a bone, exuding waves of an eerie and manic aura.
That was the reversed light of the Holy Sword. It was the heavy darkness born after the light was devoured, and it was the light of hatred and unyielding defiance of the Vile King and the Age of Gods.
"Oh my, he's actually getting serious."
Feeling the terrifying aura from the Vile King's sword, Merlin's expression finally became somewhat grave.
But he quickly replaced it with his usual smiling face, looking merrily at Gawain and the others.
"Well then, brave and fearless Knights of the Round Table. For the sake of our King, for the future of Britain, could I ask you to lend your strength?"
Hearing Merlin's words, the Knights of the Round Table present all froze for a moment, but they quickly reacted and answered in unison.
"Please tell us what to do, Merlin."
"Then I shall trouble everyone."
Seemingly receiving the expected response, the smile on Merlin's lips widened further, and a ceremonial staff appeared in his hand.
The next moment, accompanied by a string of rapidly chanted Divine Words, the eyes of all the Knights of the Round Table, including Kay and Agravain, suddenly became empty and vacant. In stark contrast, their auras surged violently.
"In the name of the Magus of Flowers, the Great Sage Merlin, I bestow—"
"Knight of the Sun, Gawain: 'Nightless'."
"Knight of the Lake, Lancelot: 'Immaculate'."
"Knight of Sorrow, Tristan: 'Sure Hit'."
"Knight of the Fighting Spirit, Gareth: 'Impurity'."
As Merlin's voice drifted into the minds of all the Knights of the Round Table like a somniloquy, pulling them into a dreamscape, Artoria was astonished to find that the strength of both Gawain and Lancelot was advancing by leaps and bounds.
Seemingly thinking of something, the young girl instinctively cast her gaze toward Souya in the distance, just as Merlin's words opportunely reached his name.
"...And the Knight of Radiance, Lamorak. To you, 'Reversal'."
Although highly surprised that Souya had appeared here as a Knight of the Round Table, Merlin ultimately did not say much.
He merely gave the former a deep look before bestowing his blessing.