In Britain, the Noble Phantasm: Divine Key

He almost forgot his original purpose and immersed himself in Yanan's stories every day.

"So that's how it is! I never imagined the outside world could be so wonderful." The Knight of the Lake's eyes shone with longing. "Mountains perpetually covered in snow, oceans wider than the sky, barren deserts, and so many knights fighting for honor and their beliefs..."

He sighed, "Unfortunately, I've never seen these things in Avalon."

The fish started biting... A slight smile appeared on Yanan's lips.

He went to such lengths not only to get closer to Lancelot, but also to pique his interest in the outside world.

Humans often feel fear towards the unknown, but if someone else describes the details of that thing in great detail, then that fear can turn into curiosity or anticipation.

However, Yanan knew very well that this was far from enough. To get Lancelot to follow him obediently, he had to be willing himself.

However, he had already come up with a solution to this.

“Avalon is an ideal land that transcends all fantasies. Although my world cannot compare to it, it also has many magnificent landscapes.” Anan smiled, then suddenly sighed, “But soon, all these things will disappear.”

"Huh!?" Lancelot's eyes widened in surprise. "Why is that?"

A look of hesitation appeared on Yanan's face.

Although Lancelot was simple-minded, he was not unaware of how to read people's expressions. Seeing that Anaen looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated, he knew that the other party must have some unspeakable secret.

A sense of responsibility welled up within him again, and he stood up, looking earnestly at Anan and saying:

"Please tell me, Anan, whatever difficulties you face, I will definitely help you."

“Lancelot, I know you’re a virtuous person, but this matter actually has nothing to do with you.” Yanan gave a wry smile. “But whatever, just take it as my little complaint, and listen to it as a story.”

"Actually, I am the king of a country on the island of Britain, and my country is now facing a very powerful enemy—a wicked white dragon..."

Anan recounted the entire feud between Camelot and Vortigern to Lancelot, but in his description, Vortigern was a wicked dragon who devoured a hundred young boys and girls every month, used skulls as drinking vessels, lived on a mountain formed of corpses, and drank the heart's blood of ten virgins every morning upon opening his eyes...

—This is not something he made up; in the imagination of the people of Camelot, this is exactly what King Vortigern looks like.

—Initially, the bards fabricated exaggerated poems to emphasize Vortigern's power, but they didn't expect the white dragon to cast such a deep shadow on people, so they embellished the poems with even more terrifying details. Then, the story spread like wildfire, and Vortigern's image in people's minds became what it is today, with even more horrifying versions circulating in some places.

So even if Lancelot later discovers that Anahn's words are not true, he will not suspect him.

"How could this be!" Lancelot clenched his fist and slammed it down, instantly shattering a nearby rock into pieces. His pale purple eyes blazed with furious fire. "Betrayal, blasphemy, bloodshed, brutality... How can such an evil white dragon be allowed to continue to exist in this world!"

He took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his heart, and looked at Anan with unwavering determination: "I've made up my mind, Anan. I will leave Avalon with you to slay that evil white dragon!"

“Calm down, Lancelot.” Yanan chuckled inwardly, but put on a worried expression. “This is my business, it has nothing to do with you.”

"How can it be nothing!" Lancelot exclaimed anxiously. "Although we've only known each other for a month, you've already become an indispensable friend to me. Now that you're in trouble, how can I just sit idly by?"

Yanan sighed: "But Vortigern is far too powerful, and may even have reached the level of a [god].

"No matter how powerful it is, justice will ultimately bring down its final punishment." Lancelot's gaze was unwavering. "In the name of Lancelot, I will surely bring that evil white dragon to its end by my sword!"

hum-

With a soft tremor, a broadsword appeared in Lancelot's hand. The golden blade shone brilliantly, and the blue hilt gleamed like lake water, engraved with intricate patterns—the script of the elves.

The pristine lake... Yanan narrowed his eyes slightly.

This is also a powerful holy sword, entrusted to Lancelot by the Lady of the Lake, Vivian. In terms of [tenacity], it is comparable to Excalibur, and it accompanied Lancelot in achieving countless illustrious feats.

However, when Lancelot escaped Britain with Guinevere, he accidentally killed fellow Knights of the Round Table, including Agnès, Gahoris, and Gareth. This caused the once clear and pure holy sword to be tainted with evil, losing its status and becoming a demonic sword.

Lancelot held the holy sword, and his immense magical power soared into the sky like a pillar supporting the heavens, just as pure and unwavering as his belief in fighting for justice.

This is the noble knight who shouldered lofty ideals, embodying many virtues such as romance, justice, and loyalty. Although he made an unforgivable mistake, he is still praised by later generations.

"Since you've put it that way, how can I refuse?"

Anan smiled and extended his palm toward Lancelot.

May you always uphold this initial belief, never forget your true self, and use the sword in your hand to uphold justice for the weak.

"Welcome to Camelot, Knight of the Lake—Lancelot."

Chapter Thirteen: The Star Sword Wielder

Although it is a secluded fantasy land, Avalon still has day and night.

Working at sunrise and resting at sunset, for thousands of years, all living things here have upheld the most simple and pure philosophy of life.

As Yanan and his companions arrived in Avalon for the sixtieth day-night cycle, a powerful surge of magical energy swept across the entire continent.

Yanan, who was resting in bed, suddenly opened his eyes, a smile appearing in them.

"It's finally over..."

He sighed, then immediately got up, found Guinevere who lived next door, and flew with her toward the source of the magic.

On the island, countless fairies gathered together, curiously gazing at the small hill that radiated a hazy starlight.

Anan landed on the ground with Guinevere, casually dispersing his wings made of wind elements, and looked at Merlin, who was already waiting there.

"What was the result?"

Merlin shook his head: "Not sure yet."

Yanan suddenly sensed something and looked toward the void beside him.

The void twisted slightly, and one figure after another appeared out of thin air. They were all elegant and graceful noblewomen with different temperaments. Some were as fiery as flames, while others were as cold as ice. Standing at the very front was none other than Vivian, the oldest elf in the world.

—Legend has it that the nine nymphs of the lake who guard Avalon, except for the evil nymph Morrigan, all gathered here.

"It's so nice to see you all again."

A sweet, clear voice reached their ears. The wind fairy, Tyrenno, whom they had met once before, smiled charmingly at Anaen and the others, and waved casually.

A gentle breeze gathered, and a figure appeared out of thin air.

"Kai?"

Yanan and the others were slightly taken aback. For some reason, after two months apart, Kai seemed a little disappointed when they met again.

"teacher."

Kai's gaze was slightly complicated, but he said nothing and simply stood quietly behind Anaen.

Yanan and Guinevere exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of doubt in each other's eyes.

Only Merlin, standing to the side, smiled without saying a word.

Just as Yanan was about to ask Kai if Tyrone had done something to him—

call!

The wind blows.

Countless petals were blown up and flew all over the sky. The surging air currents made the white clouds in the sky float rapidly, and ripples appeared on the calm lake surface. Countless creatures raised their heads and looked at this scene in astonishment.

The starlight that had enveloped the hill suddenly spread outwards.

The fairies screamed in panic, and were about to close their eyes when they realized that this time the starlight was not as intense as before, as if an invisible hand was binding the power.

Firefly-like hazy starlight, carrying countless flower petals, enveloped the island, like a dreamlike midsummer night.

Tread-

Clear footsteps suddenly rang out, and a petite figure walked down the hill.

She was a knight princess as pure white as a lily, with holy blue eyes as clear as lake water.

She held a three-foot-long golden sword in her hand, and an incomparably strong aura of nobility enveloped the sword, making people feel an irresistible urge to prostrate themselves in worship.

"Al!"

Guinevere rushed towards Artoria with delight and hugged the petite figure tightly.

"It's been a long time, Guinevere."

Artoria smiled, gently patted Guinevere's back, and looked at Anahn in front of her.

"Teacher, I have not let you down."

“Yes, Lily, you did it. Congratulations on successfully pulling out the Holy Sword,” Yanan exclaimed.

Although he already knew the ending, he still couldn't help but feel a little emotional when the moment actually arrived.

Although he didn't know what Artoria had experienced during the Holy Sword Trial over the past two months, he could clearly sense a stronger and more unwavering belief in her holy blue eyes than before.

In a daze, he seemed to see the shadow of the Knight King in the girl in front of him.

It seems that besides the Holy Sword, Artoria has also gained other significant benefits this time.

The fairies embraced each other joyfully, their voices as beautiful and melodious as music—poems of celebration and blessing.

"Congratulations, human. Your conviction has successfully conquered the will of the Holy Sword." Vivian sat on the vines, looking at Excalibur in Artoria's hand, her gaze slightly complicated.

From the moment the Holy Sword was created, she tirelessly searched for a suitable host for it, but she could never gain the Holy Sword's recognition.

However, what she didn't expect was that, in the end, the Holy Sword would acknowledge the petite girl who possessed the power of the red dragon.

Is this what they call destiny?

She sighed softly in her heart, and with a wave of her hand, the starlight that had previously scattered gathered again in her hand, coalescing into a golden scabbard inlaid with blue enamel.

"Radiance, salvation, humanity, truth, justice, not bullying the weak, courage and wisdom, not being an enemy of the elves, righteousness, survival, and recognition." She looked at Artoria, "This is why the Holy Sword chose you. I hope that from now on you will always remember this belief, otherwise when you fall into darkness, the Holy Sword will also be stained with impurities."

“I will remember that,” Artoria said earnestly.

Vivian nodded and handed the scabbard to Artoria: "Although the Holy Sword has acknowledged you, you are not its master. It belongs to this planet and is a Holy Sword forged from the planet's crystals. The one who draws it will become the Holy Sword Wielder of the Stars."

"This ideal land, named Avalon, is the scabbard of the Holy Sword. Although it cannot grant you great power, it can protect you from harm from the outside world. Remember to keep it safe."

The moment Artoria touched the scabbard, it transformed into countless starlight and merged into her body.

“Chosen Star Sword Wielder, though I cannot grant you great power, I hope this blessing will be of some help to you.”

Vivian opened her mouth, her deep voice like an ancient chant:

"In the name of the Lake Fairy, I grant you permission to ride on the lake and never fall."

An invisible force gathered, and just like the "Wind King Barrier" that Tyrenno had given her, another blessing was imprinted on Artoria's body.

“Lancelot, are you really sure you want to leave Avalon with them?” Vivian asked the purple-haired young man beside her.

“Yes, Mother, I believe in my choice,” Lancelot said firmly.

He believed that someone whom even the Star Sword Master chose to follow must be someone he could entrust his life to.