Fate: Typemoon - My Dragon Knight

Perhaps it was due to his bloodline, or perhaps because the battle had activated his usually dormant dragon blood through the island's power, but Aslan, guided by his intuition, could clearly sense that Vortigern was not completely dead.

After all, this was the White Dragon destined to destroy Britain. Especially compared to the original timeline, he had absorbed far more of the island's power. It was to be expected that he wouldn't be finished off so easily and could still cling to life. However, according to Aslan's senses, his "cheap old dad's" flame of life was now like a candle flickering in the wind. Even if Aslan didn't deliver the final blow, it would be difficult for his father's soul to survive.

But his father was the White Dragon of Britain; even in death, he deserved a grand exit. For such a faint soul-flame to be extinguished by some nobody would be a true humiliation.

Upon hearing Aslan's words, Artoria was initially stunned, but then she understood his reasoning and what the young man intended to do. At any other time, what he was about to do could have brought him infamy.

"Aslan, perhaps I should be the one to end it."

Artoria didn't doubt for a moment that the young man would try to save the demonic dragon in some other way. It was a gut feeling, an impression formed from his actions all along. It seemed this young man possessed a remarkably sound understanding of the bigger picture and the future.

Aslan, of course, knew Artoria was worried about the reputation he might gain from this act, though her words could also be interpreted as a desire to do it herself out of mistrust. Merlin really hadn't taught Artoria much about social nuances.

"No... I should be the one. To be honest, there's something I need from my dear old dad. If his soul resides within the fragments of the demonic dragon, it would be the absolute best forging material for me. If this story is passed down to later generations, I'll be seen as a righteous man who chose justice over family. So, don't worry."

Of course, that was just to comfort her. In truth, Aslan couldn't care less what others thought of him. If you worry too much about the opinions and evaluations of others, you end up living your life for them. What meaning would his own life have then? Of course, history was not without such heroes. To some extent, wasn't Siegfried a hero who lived his life fulfilling the requests of others? His first choice for himself after becoming a Heroic Spirit led to the creation of Sieg.

This time, Melusine didn't follow Aslan. She understood that what came next was not something she should be involved in. Nevertheless, she was in a good mood. Today could be considered meeting the parents, right? Rounding up, that meant they were basically married. Rounding up a little more, it meant she and Aslan already had a child! How wonderful!

Aslan climbed over the ruins, using his forging hammer to alter the terrain. Heavy stones were quickly moved aside, shaped into the form of a roaring dragon. This would be the place of the demonic dragon's fall; Aslan intended to turn it into a famous historical site. After all, in a way, it represented his own prestige as the son of Vortigern, did it not?

As he cleared away the massive rocks, a dragon's head, with half of its skeleton exposed, appeared before him. This was the source of the power he had sensed, the location of his father's lingering soul. To have the head remain after three powerful attacks—these dragon bones would surely make the finest materials.

As if sensing his arrival, the dragon's single remaining eye slowly opened. "So you've come after all, my dear son. What is it? Are you here to cut the weeds and pull out the roots?"

Aslan didn't speak. He simply opened his Mystic Eyes and gently tapped the bone with his forging hammer. He then nodded silently to himself. As expected of my old man's skull, the quality is superb! It's far superior to any material I've ever seen. My father truly cares for me, leaving me such a treasure even in death. How moving! I'm so incredibly moved!

Aslan patted his father's head. "Rest easy, old man. I will definitely forge your skull into the most powerful weapon and armor to fulfill my ambition—to surpass the body of a god!"

Upon hearing Aslan's words, Vortigern, far from being angry, laughed out loud. "You have your eyes on my skull? Hahahaha! What guts! Truly my son! Yes, that's the way. In this era, you have to be ruthless enough to survive, to live a better life! If you want my head, then by all means, take it! Even this dragon soul is yours for the taking!"

He was giving his permission!

Aslan took a deep breath, composed all his emotions, and took a step back. Looking at his cheap old dad, who was now nothing but a head, he felt a certain complexity. He had to thank this demonic dragon for giving this body's original owner life; otherwise, the current him would not exist. In this world, having a good birth and powerful potential was extremely advantageous. The world of magi was just like that, with its hierarchies. Some people, no matter how hard they worked, could perhaps never match a single, easy step taken by a genius or someone with resources.

Aslan raised his forging hammer high. "Farewell, Father!"

As the demonic dragon destined to destroy the island of Britain, his father would one day revive in some form, but that was a matter for the distant future.

With that, Aslan's hammer fell. Faerie Letters were carved upon the dragon bone, beginning the process of harvesting the White Dragon's remains. At the same time, Vortigern's residual dragon soul began to coalesce, forming a white gem that landed gently in Aslan's hand. With this, the prophesied battle of the two dragons came to an end. The White Dragon's blood that had been surging through Aslan's veins gradually calmed.

After storing the dragon bones and soul, Aslan returned to his own dragon's side. He then looked at Artoria and, after a moment of contemplation, offered a piece of advice.

"Artoria, with this matter concluded, I don't think we'll have any need to see each other again in the days to come. So, let me give you one last piece of advice: perhaps you should try to consider things more from the perspective of others. With that, farewell."