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[FTMWDK] Chapter 59: Story of Vortigern
🕑 Added 2023-10-14 09:32:03 +0000 UTCOver the next month, Arkhan, under the guidance of Lancelot, explored every corner of Avalon. He wasn't particularly interested in this place; he just wanted to use this opportunity to get closer to Lancelot.
It was clear that Lancelot was enthusiastic, walking from dawn till dusk every day, still looking full of energy.
Having lived in Avalon for so many years and finally meeting another human other than himself, Lancelot naturally felt a fondness for Arkhan. Plus, after a month of spending time together, he felt even more strongly that this black-haired youth was someone worth getting to know.
During this time, Arkhan slowly introduced Lancelot to information about the outside world, sparking a great curiosity in Lancelot, who had never left Avalon.
Lancelot almost forgot his original purpose and was immersed in Arkhan's stories every day.
"So, that's how it is. I never imagined the outside world could be so fascinating..." Lancelot said with a longing look in his eyes. "Snow-covered mountains all year round, vast oceans reaching the sky, deserts with no signs of life, and so many knights fighting for honor and belief... but I've never seen any of those things in Avalon."
After finished speaking, Lancelot sighed.
The fish started biting the hook, and a faint smile crept onto Arkhan's lips.
Arkhan had used a lot of words not only to get closer to Lancelot but also to pique his interest in the outside world. Humans often feel fear of the unknown, but if someone describes every detail about it, that fear can turn into curiosity or anticipation.
However, Arkhan knew that this level of interest was not enough. To make Lancelot willingly follow him, he needed something more.
"Avalon is a utopia that surpasses all fantasies. Although the world I come from can't compare to this place, it also has many magnificent landscapes." Arkhan smiled and sighed suddenly. "But soon, all these things will disappear."
"Hmm?" Lancelot widened his eyes in surprise. "Why is that?"
Arkhan hesitated, his face showing a hint of reluctance.
Lancelot, though simple-minded, was good at reading people. Seeing Arkhan's hesitant expression, he knew there was something hidden.
A sense of responsibility welled up in him as Lancelot stood firmly and looked at Arkhan earnestly.
"Please, tell me, Arkhan. Whatever difficulties you have, I will definitely help you."
"Lancelot, I know you're a person of noble character, but this matter actually has nothing to do with you." Arkhan sighed. "But, well, take it as my little complaint. Just think of it as a story I'm sharing with you. Actually, I'm the king of a kingdom in Britain, and right now, my kingdom is facing a very powerful enemy—a Vile White Dragon."
Arkhan laid out the entire story of Camelot and the feud with Vortigern, but in his description, Vortigern was an evil dragon that did unspeakable things.
He demanded a hundred boys and girls as sacrifices every month, enjoyed using skulls as drinking cups, dwelled atop mountains made of corpses, and drank the blood of virgins daily.
Arkhan wasn't making this up; this was how Vortigern was portrayed in the imaginations of the people in Camelot. It all started with bards exaggerating Vortigern's power in their songs, but they never anticipated the depth of fear this portrayal would create.
The stories got more terrifying as they were passed down, and in some places, even more horrifying versions circulated.
So, even if Lancelot later discovered that Arkhan's story was not entirely accurate, Lancelot would never doubt him.
"That's outrageous!"
Lancelot clenched his fist and smashed a nearby rock into pieces, his pale purple eyes blazing with anger.
"Betrayal, sacrilege, bloodshed, cruelty... how can we tolerate such an evil being continuing to exist in this world?"
Lancelot took a deep breath, suppressing the anger within him, and stared firmly at Arkhan.
"I've made up my mind, Arkhan. I'm going with you to leave Avalon and seek vengeance against that evil dragon!"
"Take it easy, Lancelot." Arkhan chuckled inwardly, but his face displayed a concerned expression. "This is my problem, and you shouldn't involve yourself in this mess."
"How can I not involve myself?!" Lancelot exclaimed, growing anxious. "Though we've only known each other for a month, you've become an indispensable friend to me. How can I stand by when you're facing difficulties?"
Arkhan sighed and shook his head. "But Vortigern is very powerful, possibly even reaching the realm of the gods."
"No matter how powerful he is, justice will ultimately prevail." Lancelot declared with an unwavering gaze. "I swear on the name of Lancelot that I'll ensure the White Dragon meets its end under my sword!"
*Buzz—*
With a slight tremor, a broad, majestic sword appeared in Lancelot's hand. The golden sword radiated a brilliant light, and the blue hilt shimmered like a lake's surface, adorned with intricate fairy letters.
Arkhan squinted slightly, his eyes locking onto the undying light on the sword.
This was also a powerful holy sword entrusted to Lancelot by Vivian, known as Arondight. In terms of durability, it was on par with Excalibur. Alongside Lancelot, it had witnessed numerous glorious victories.
However, because Lancelot had later fled Britain with Guinevere and inadvertently killed fellow Knights of the Round Table, such as Gawain, Gareth, and Gaheris, this once golden holy sword had become tainted and lost its sanctity, transforming into a cursed blade with dark-purple color.
As Lancelot wielded Arondight, a colossal surge of magical energy rose skyward as pure and resolute as his belief in justice.
This was the noble knight burdened with a beautiful ideal, embodying virtues such as romance, justice, and loyalty. Despite committing unforgivable mistakes, he continued to be celebrated by future generations.
"Since you put it that way, how can I refuse?"
Arkhan spoke with a sincere smile and extended his hand to Lancelot.
"May you always uphold your original belief, never forget your true purpose, and use your sword to enforce justice for the weak."
"Welcome to Camelot, Lancelot."
