Era of Heroic Spirits: I Was Exposed by Alaya

The dragon's head gushed blood.

From its blood bloomed a dazzling rose, which the nameless heroic spirit plucked and handed to the maiden.

The once invincible incarnation of Britain had now become mere greenery, a backdrop for the young man and maiden.

The entire scene seemed frozen in time, etched deeply into the DNA of countless onlookers, impossible to ever forget!

The breathtakingly beautiful maiden, her ahoge trembling slightly, reached out and took the vibrant rose.

Then.

The perfect King of Knights extended her hand to help the kneeling knight rise, a faint blush coloring her cheeks: "Then, Nameless, will you witness it with me?"

"Of course."

The nameless heroic spirit smiled in agreement.

Beside them, the gathered knights stared in stunned silence.

Especially Sir Gawain, the Knight of the Sun, who rubbed his eyes as if the sky had fallen.

Meanwhile, beyond the scene, countless comments exploded in excitement—

-[HYPE! They actually slew the dragon!!!]

-[And you wanted to destroy humanity? You lasted five minutes—Golza survived longer than you!]

-[So romantic! This is the perfect knight-and-princess fairy tale!]

-[Ship them! Jeanne d'Arc? Who's that? Never heard of her!]

-[LMAO, Gawain's expression is killing me. He definitely thinks King Arthur and Nameless are two men getting cozy!]

-[Damn, the rot starts at the top. I bet Britain's degeneracy was spread by these two!]

...

"The knight beheads the evil dragon and presents the rose born from its blood to the maiden—that's exactly what Saint George, the dragon-slaying hero of Christian myth, did!"

Roya couldn't help but cup her cheeks in her hands.

Heroic spirits originated from myth and history.

"If you put this much effort into studying, you'd have made enough money to whale already!"

Souma rolled his eyes.

This brat was practically a child prodigy, yet she wasted all her talent on gaming and chasing heroic spirits.

When it came to schoolwork, she only crammed right before exams.

And yet, she still aced every test—utterly unfair!

"Hmph, I'm still a child! Are you trying to exploit child labor?" Roya retorted shamelessly.

Just then.

Illya suddenly gasped, "The dragon! The dragon's not dead yet!"

"It's still alive after losing its head?"

Roya jumped in fright.

Across from them, Souma's expression darkened as memories of the past surfaced...

In the video.

The Vile King Vortigern, even after being decapitated, unleashed his most vicious curse:

"Arthur, I curse you! May you be betrayed by those closest to you! May your kingdom fall to ruin! May you lose everything you hold dear!"

This curse, fueled by his very essence, consumed his soul and life to ensure its fulfillment.

Once the venomous curse was spoken, the dragon's colossal body dissolved into nothingness.

Even the gleaming chains of heaven that had bound it vanished along with their captive.

...

Uruk.

The king seated on the throne rested his chin on his right hand, gazing at the golden chains displayed on the massive screen before her.

"To think you could replicate a counterfeit of the Chains of Heaven... Just who are you?"

The King of Heroes murmured softly.

How could this mysterious, nameless heroic spirit replicate a counterfeit of this Noble Phantasm?

To create a replica, one must have seen the original and fully analyzed it.

A divine construct like the Chains of Heaven should be nearly impossible to replicate.

Even attempting it would require physical contact and extensive study over time.

Yet in his memories, there was no trace of ever having met this individual.

"Who dares tamper with this king's memories?"

The nearly omniscient and omnipotent King of Heroes found this situation inexplicable.

Could it be they were once friends, only to be separated by some cataclysm even he couldn't withstand?

The King of Heroes chuckled lightly: "Heh, an interesting fellow. Pity—this king needs no second friend. Across all ages, there has been only one true companion!"

The Age of Heroes had descended.

He had traversed six thousand years to arrive in the 21st century, continuing to rule over Uruk.

Yet in this ancient yet reborn kingdom, he stood alone as the only heroic spirit.

His sole friend, and that priestess who always stood by his side—

Neither were present now!

The King of Heroes sat solitary upon his throne, quietly watching the footage...

...

The scene shifted.

The radiant and majestic Knight of the Sun, Gawain once again received a secret message from his mother—

[Why didn't you join forces with the Vile King Vortigern to slay King Arthur?]

"That would violate my knightly code!"

Gawain answered without hesitation, "Born as human, I apologize—not joining to slay the White Dragon was already the greatest concession I could make!"

[Don't disappoint me, child. Act soon!]

His mother's message ended.

Though bathed in warm sunlight, the Sun Knight felt as though he stood in darkness, sighing softly: "Mother truly becomes harder to understand by the day."

Morgan le Fay, King Arthur's sister—and thus his mother.

One who equally coveted the throne of Britain.

This desire had only grown more intense with time.

And he had been raised by his mother for the sole purpose of defeating King Arthur and seizing the throne.

Yet contrary to Morgan's expectations, this carefully cultivated child had been utterly captivated by King Arthur's charisma, becoming a fiercely loyal "king's chef"!

During dinner.

King Arthur sighed lightly: "Gawain, your potatoes are truly dreadful!"

"But, my king, you always eat so much of them!" Gawain protested indignantly.

"Only because Nameless isn't here—there's simply nothing else to eat!"

The king sighed again.

Then.

Nameless appeared once more, bearing all manner of delicious foods, asking with a smile: "Gawain, care to join us?"

"Hmph! I, Gawain, would rather starve, die outside, or jump from this tower than eat a single bite of your food!"

The Sun Knight declared resolutely.

The feast began.

King Arthur devoured the delicious meal with gusto.

The other knights cheered and celebrated.

Only Gawain sat alone to the side.

He endured this isolation for a long, long time—but ultimately couldn't hold out until the end.

Then.

He stealthily picked up a skewer of cumin-and-chili seasoned roasted meat and took a massive bite.

Against his will, a smile spread across the face of the radiant Sun Knight:

"So delicious!"

The Sun Knight had fallen completely!

At this moment, a woman draped in sheer purple gauze appeared quietly in the distance.

Her figure was exquisitely alluring—voluptuous yet without a trace of excess, the nearly transparent violet fabric teasing with a tantalizing hint of what lay beneath.

None other than the enchantress of Britain—Morgan le Fay!

Her mocking smile curled as she gazed at the distant knight and the King of Knights. "My dear sister, why should you alone be entitled to happiness?"

Britain was rightfully hers, yet it had been wrested away by the other.

This time, she would reclaim everything she had lost—and take that man along with it!

Inside the Prime Minister's residence, the illustrious Sun Knight Gawain had utterly surrendered to the feast prepared by the nameless one.

Mordred, witnessing this scene, couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Gawain, I never thought you'd be this kind of person! This is absolutely hilarious!"

"Stop laughing. You'll be the one crying soon enough!"

The ever-radiant Sun Knight lifted his gaze to the heavens.

At this moment, he finally understood the meaning of "public execution"—being forced to relive his past actions before the eyes of countless people across the world.

Yes, he remembered now.

The video was like a key, unlocking long-sealed memories.

He cast a sympathetic glance at Mordred—

This brat still dared to mock him? Just wait, she wouldn't even have the chance to cry later!

"Tch, as if I'd cry over some stupid recorded film!"

Mordred crossed her legs with a look of utter confidence, oozing disdain.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the witch appear on screen. "Huh? What's Morgan Mama planning?"

On the screen.

After Morgan appeared, two strange droplets could be seen in her hands.

One took the form of a faint, miniature red dragon—none other than King Arthur's blood.

The second shimmered with a milky-white halo, brimming with an indescribable mystique. It wasn't blood or DNA but an extraction from the existence known as [Nameless].

As if it had gathered the mysteries of countless histories and worlds across millennia.

Morgan gazed at the second droplet and murmured softly, "Nameless, you truly come from another time and space!"

She drew vast amounts of magical energy from the colossal white dragon's corpse and poured it all into the mysterious magic circle before her.

The entity was not a living being in any sense—it was clearly an aggregate, a convergence of infinite mystical power.

Hum~

Under the infusion of her immense magic, the red dragon of Britain and the silver aggregate of rules slowly merged, forming a tiny embryo.

The homunculus, Mordred, was born!

***

Hey readers!

Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my Patreon for early access to 30+ advance chapters! Your support helps me write more and bring the story to you faster.

🔹patreon.com/aarvan🔹