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When the group saw the radiant light, Lancelot immediately dismounted and addressed the divine blade.
"My lord...King of the End, though I doubt it myself..."
Lancelot's honey-colored hair flowed in the wind, his face etched with uncertainty.
"...Have you forgotten my face?"
He had long, white hair and a youthful, handsome face. However, etched upon his refined features, like rust upon steel, were the marks of countless battles and an unrecoverable weariness. He wore a blue tunic, slim trousers, and a pure white cloak.
Slowly, as if touching something repulsive, with an expression of someone forced to handle something unpleasant, he grasped the hilt of the divine blade.
"Of course I remember you, To think we would meet again...fate is truly unpredictable."
"My name is now Lancelot du Lac," Lancelot said, stroking his horse's head with a bright, cheerful smile.
"Is that so? You finally received a new name." A refreshing smile bloomed on the weary, yet noble, face of the figure who resembled a prince.
For a moment, the rust-like weariness vanished, replaced by an innate grace and elegance befitting royalty. It was his way of expressing joy at this reunion with Lancelot, a bond forged through extraordinary circumstances.
But the momentary transformation quickly faded, and the King of the End's smile disappeared.
Guinevere, clutching the Holy Grail, approached Rama with an expectant look.
The princely figure hesitated for a moment, then placed his hand on Guinevere's head, gently stroking her golden hair. A troubled expression crossed his face. "Goddess of White...you've pushed yourself too hard."
Guinevere froze, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at the white-haired prince. "My lord..."
Rama's gaze shifted to the figure standing at the rear of the group – the Hanuman, his true nature concealed by cloth and a mask.
This war god, who had served the hero who annihilated the Devil Kings since mythical times, lowered his head, seemingly apologizing for forcibly awakening him.
Rama shook his head silently, conveying a message with his eyes.
It was as if he were saying, "It's not your fault." The Hanuman nodded in acknowledgment, then retreated, transforming into a whirlwind and dissipating.
This was the silent communication between master and servant, a bond so deep that words were unnecessary.
"You've grown weary of battle, haven't you?"
Lancelot's whisper was laced with sadness, his gaze fixed on Rama filled with pity.
Rama, listening silently, offered a tired smile and nodded to his ally, whom he was meeting again after fifteen hundred years.
Guinevere's eyes widened. She quickly embraced Rama's waist, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, my lord. Guinevere didn't know… I'm so sorry, truly sorry..."
Like a child apologizing in their parent's arms after making a mistake, Guinevere wept and apologized profusely.
Rama, both exasperated and amused, comforted Guinevere, gently patting her back. "I forgive you, I truly do..." he whispered.
Guinevere raised her tear-stained face, looking at Rama with pleading eyes. "Really?"
Rama nodded repeatedly, the corners of his lips twitching into a bitter smile that mirrored his inner turmoil.
Tears welled up in Guinevere's eyes once more.
Rama quickly changed his expression, forcing a bright, albeit tearful, smile.
Guinevere stopped crying, slowly releasing her grip and stepping back. She summoned the Holy Grail and presented it to Rama.
After a moment of hesitation, Rama reached out his hand...
Suddenly, the floating island trembled violently. It wasn't a single tremor but a continuous shaking. Earthquakes were impossible on an island floating in orbit. The group realized what was happening.
"Are we falling...?"
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Someone had summoned the floating island back to earth – causing it to descend. The entire island shook from the force of the descent.
Leviathan, the Heretic Serpent, hovering above the West Heaven Palace, roared furiously at the sky, its fierce expression unwavering despite its unhealed wounds.
Its roar echoed through the clouds.
"By the authority of the Earth Mother Goddess, I draw all things back to the embrace of Mother Earth. All things, do not obstruct my will!"
The floating island plummeted like a meteor.
Although it fell like a meteor, it collided with a small mountain next to the West Heaven Palace without the expected impact and explosion.
The Valkyrie Brunhild, leaning against the gate of the Palace, channeled her divine power. As the Earth Mother Goddess, she used her authority to protect the earth from the impact.
However, this protection did not extend to the floating island. Brunhild sensed an incomparably repulsive aura emanating from it.
The island shattered upon impact, scattering fragments of rock and soil.
When they were two or three hundred meters from the ground, Guinevere cast a spell to negate gravity, allowing the group to float in mid-air.
From his vantage point in the sky, Rama's broad vision immediately detected the approaching figure of the Heretic Serpent God, radiating a dense killing intent.
"Did you summon me back? What is your name?"
"Asherah...Leviathan, the one you devoured alive two thousand years ago. Ah...ah... I never imagined, truly never imagined, that I would briefly regain memories from so long ago, perhaps because I have regained my divine form," the enormous serpent god, 300 meters long and 5 meters wide, boomed.
"Indeed, breaking the Dragon-Serpent's seal has a chance of restoring memories. So, what do you intend to do?" Rama nodded slightly, addressing Asherah.
"Kill you...kill you..." Asherah's serpentine body trembled as it repeated the words, roaring at Rama.
Hearing Asherah's undisguised killing intent, Rama nodded, not asking for a reason. He lowered his gaze for a moment.
Precisely because he possessed the ability to command even the Gods Ancestors, he understood more than anyone else.
If the proud soul of a goddess were to be restored after becoming a God Ancestor, and she were to see her current, degraded state, such feelings of hatred would not be surprising.
The prince raised his head, meeting the giant serpent god's gaze with an unwavering expression.
"I understand why you consider me your enemy. Do you wish to duel?"
"Kill you..." Asherah repeated once more.
"Then I cannot refuse." He responded immediately, with the solemnity of someone accepting responsibility for their sins.
Rama slowly drew the divine blade from his back, then removed it from its scabbard and handed it to Guinevere.
Guinevere quickly took the blade, and together with Lancelot, she retreated several hundred meters, hovering in the air to observe the confrontation between Rama and Leviathan.
It wasn't that he looked down on Asherah. Rama's eyes held a sincere respect for his opponent, who was challenging him with their soul and dignity.
Wielding the divine blade against the serpent god would be like activating an instant-kill cheat. This would be unfair to Asherah, who was risking everything for revenge, so Rama relinquished the blade.
Even though Rama hadn't absorbed the earth's essence from the Holy Grail and was currently depleted of power, Leviathan was also severely wounded. The battle would be fought on equal ground.
The serpent's tail lashed out, a blur of motion, aiming for Rama.
Rama charged forward, unarmed, to meet the serpent god head-on.
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