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[FTMWDK] Chapter 201: Chase
🕑 Added 2024-01-04 06:06:54 +0000 UTCThe vast expanse of azure sky stretched out endlessly, clear and bright, with only a few wisps of white clouds lazily drifting, presenting a tranquil picture of idyllic life.
*Whoosh—*
Suddenly, a piercing howl echoed through the air, followed by a white figure speeding from the distance, rocketing through the sky at a pace akin to a missile. It shattered the serene clouds, leaving behind a lingering trail of white turbulence.
It was a white, four-legged dragon with a streamlined, elegant body, about two hundred meters in length. Its white scales gleamed with a chilly light, and its golden eyes were filled with anger and frustration.
'Damn it! Damn it! That damn man!'
Vortigern roared angrily inside his mind. He was so close to success, on the verge of achieving victory, but why, why did that man have to appear at this critical moment?!
Why did he always show up to ruin everything just when victory seemed within his reach?!
Thinking of that detestable face, an endless rage bubbled like molten lava inside his heart. Grinding his teeth, Vortigern yearned to feast on his nephew's flesh and drink his blood.
Hatred and anger turned into flames, consuming his soul. He had lost all the calmness he had before.
No, perhaps he could never be calm in front of that man.
God was the embodiment of everything, supreme, invincible, eternal. Yet, why could a mere mortal, a tiny mortal, stand against the might of a god?
What went wrong?!
Vortigern was both perplexed and furious, mixed with a deep sense of helplessness because he knew, in his current state, he was no match for that man.
So, he could only flee, flee at all costs!
'Even though my power has significantly diminished, slowing the expansion of my domain, the areas already consumed still exist. In a day at most, I can recover to my previous state...'
'No, it's not enough. In my current state, I'm not capable of taking down that man. At least until I expand the domain to the entire North, no, half of Britain, I can't risk confronting him...'
With determination, Vortigern flew with all its might, his body expanding visibly.
After binding his existence completely with the concept of the 'Age of Gods', as long as he didn't die, his domain wouldn't disappear. As long as the domain persisted, his power would have a day of recovery.
'Just wait, Arkhan—no, Arthur. The wrath of the gods will descend upon the earth, and then, I will make you realize how gravely mistaken you were!'
Suddenly, an inexplicable tremor surged in Vortigern's heart, and instinctively, he shifted his body to the side.
*Swish—!*
A pitch-black spear grazed his body, leaving behind an unhealable blackish wound.
Vortigern looked ahead with a mix of surprise and anger.
A man, adorned in silver armor with a white cape on his back, floated in midair. He had a handsome face, an imposing aura, and deep-black eyes like calm, undisturbed waters, yet seemingly a devouring abyss, staring directly at the figure of a white dragon.
Next to the man stood a tall woman in a blue outfit protected by silver armor. Her dazzling golden hair was pinned behind her head, her gaze sharp, and her demeanor stern. She held a lance in one hand and a sword in the other, the blue skirt rustling like a clear lake, while her sacred azure eyes exuded an inviolable majesty.
'They caught up so quickly!?'
Vortigern's emotions surged like tidal waves until he noticed the intricate runes floating before that man. He suddenly remembered—that man was a mage!
'Damn, forgot about that...'
Vortigern's dragon eyes shimmered as he turned without hesitation to flee.
However, at that moment, a clattering sound echoed as a dozen golden spears, each trailing a chain, thrust toward him like ethereal serpents.
Knowing the peculiar nature of these things, Vortigern couldn't afford to let them entangle him. He swiftly dodged, displaying an agility matching that of a swallow, avoiding the chain's successive assaults.
But soon, a tremendous pressure pressed down on him, as if a heavy mountain settled on his back, slowing his speed instantly.
In a mix of surprise and fury, Vortigern lifted his head, spotting a small black hole suspended fifty meters above. The oppressive force caused noticeable ripples in the surrounding void.
*Clatter—!*
The sliding sound of the golden chains echoed like death's ominous countdown in his ears. Gritting his teeth, determination flashed in Vortigern's eyes. His massive body suddenly emitted unstable fluctuations.
After two or three breaths—
*BOOOM—!!!*
Vortigern's dragon body exploded violently, the earth-shaking explosion sending shockwaves in all directions.
Arkhan extended his palm, and a fluctuation of magical energy emanated from him, forming a magecraft barrier that effortlessly blocked the oncoming shockwaves.
The explosion of the previous two-thousand-meter dragon was on a completely different scale from the current two-hundred-meter dragon. With his magecraft expertise, Arkhan easily intercepted it.
The splattered blood and flesh reformed, shaping into a slightly reduced body size of the white dragon.
Vortigern's aura weakened as he shot a resentful gaze at Arkhan. He then turned, erupting with an even swifter speed than before, escaping towards the distance.
"Heh, I'd like to see where you think you can run off to." Arkhan's lips curled into a smirk as he continued to chase after Vortigern.
The pursuit lasted a whole three days. Each time Arkhan and Artoria caught up, Vortigern would detonate himself without hesitation. This self-destruction significantly weakened his power but granted him a burst of speed, creating distance between them.
Yet, as soon as the acceleration phase ended, Arkhan quickly closed the gap again, forcing Vortigern into yet another self-explosion.
Vortigern knew well that in this situation, choosing to self-destruct offered a slim chance of survival, but falling into that man's hands meant total annihilation!
Dragging it out was the only strategy. If he could exhaust his pursuers' stamina and deplete their magical energy reserves, victory would be him!
Through this relentless tug-of-war, they crossed Northumbria and Mercia, nearly reaching the Great Wall of the North. However, the defending forces, alerted in advance, launched a fierce attack upon sighting the white dragon.
This forced Vortigern to change direction and head towards East Anglia.
"We've finally pushed him to this point." Arkhan squinted his eyes slightly, turning to Artoria. "Vortigern's immortality still lingers a bit, but it shouldn't be a problem for you now. Go on, it's your time to shine."
Artoria hesitated for a moment.
"But, Teacher, this was supposed to be your—"
Before she could finish her words, Arkhan raised his hand and interrupted her with a smile.
"Lily, don't forget, we already discussed this before."
"..."
She fell silent for a moment and nodded slightly.
"I understand."
She whistled, and after a brief moment, a white horse flew in from a distance, landing by her side.
Artoria mounted her horse, her long and shapely legs gripping its sides. With a light tap, the horse named Dun Stallion let out a whinny and briskly moved its agile hooves, stepping on the fabric of the void and flying towards the distance.
Arkhan stood silently in place, watching her receding figure.
