Jeanne's question hung in the silent air, but Kanjuro only responded with a mysterious and pleasant smile. In the next moment, his figure blurred and became transparent like ink dissolving in water, finally disappearing completely from before Jeanne's eyes. He used his space-time authority to dive directly into the deepest part of Artoria's consciousness, into the core memories that formed the foundation of her existence... The sun was bright, shining on the edge of a peaceful village in Britain. Here, the grass was like a green carpet, and simple, ancient cottages could be seen in the distance, the air filled with the fragrance of earth and wildflowers. This was a scene from memory, the peaceful time before the legend of 'Artoria' began, before the gears of fate had fully started to turn.
Kanjuro's figure shifted from illusory to real, quietly appearing on a small path. His gaze swept around and quickly locked onto a middle-aged man standing alone on a small hill, with an unshakeable sorrow etched between his brows. Though his clothing was not extremely magnificent, he possessed a natural air of majesty; he was exactly the Uther Pendragon from the memory images—the future King of Britain and Artoria's biological father.
Kanjuro approached calmly. King Uther sensed a stranger's presence and turned around alertly, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist. "Who are you?" His voice carried the steadiness and scrutiny of a ruler.
Kanjuro stopped in his tracks, a transcendent smile on his face. He did not answer immediately; instead, magic power flowed slightly around him. In the next moment, his modern clothing was replaced by a deep blue Magician's robe swirling with starlight and moonlight, and he held a wooden staff that looked ancient yet contained vast magical power. His temperament also changed drastically, becoming filled with an ancient, mysterious, and unquestionable sense of wisdom.
"There is no need to be nervous, noble King," Kanjuro spoke, his voice carrying a strange resonance that could directly soothe the anxiety of the soul. "I am a Magician who travels outside the world, observing the long river of destiny. You may call me—Merlin."
"Merlin?" A hint of surprise flashed in King Uther's eyes; in the legends of Britain, this name symbolized a prophet and powerful magic.
"I sense the wailing of Britain," Kanjuro (Pseudo-Merlin) said, his tone becoming heavy, his gaze seemingly piercing through time and space to see the future of blood and fire. "The glory of the Holy Roman Empire is fading day by day, and it no longer has the power to protect its distant vassal states. Within Britain, lords are divided and conflicts are everywhere; outside, barbarians like the Saxons are like wolves and tigers, eyeing this fertile land. With internal troubles and external threats, under the shadow of the dormant dragon, the kingdom is heading toward the brink of collapse."
His words were like a heavy hammer, every sentence striking King Uther's greatest worry. King Uther's expression grew more solemn; as the King, he knew the desperate situation the kingdom faced better than anyone.
"I have descended here not to watch the destruction," Kanjuro (Pseudo-Merlin) took a step forward, his eyes burning as he stared at King Uther, "but to sow the seeds of hope. I need a vessel, one who can carry the origin of Britain's Leylines, a King destined to unify the islands and bring peace!"
"Origin of the Leylines? A King of Destiny?" King Uther's breath hitched, a light of hope bursting in his eyes, but it was immediately covered by the gloom of reality. He shook his head painfully. "But... I... I have already lost the ability to father a child." For a King, especially one who desperately needed an heir to stabilize the situation, this was an unspeakable shame and despair.
Kanjuro (Pseudo-Merlin) showed an expression of 'everything is under control,' his voice low and full of allure: "Personal regrets are insignificant in the face of the kingdom's survival. I already have a complete plan—I need to obtain the soul of the Red Dragon hidden deep within the mountains, which symbolizes the vitality of Britain, that oldest and purest primal origin energy."
He pointed his hand toward the highest and most rugged peak to the west.
"And then," his words were like a magic spell, clearly entering King Uther's ears, "I need you to temporarily 'entrust' your Queen, the Lady Igraine who possesses the noble bloodline of the daughter of the Duke of Cornwall, to me. I will use supreme magic to guide the power of the Red Dragon into her body, combining it with your pendragon bloodline mark. With me personally acting as the 'guide of power' and the 'forger of the future,' I will create for you, and for this Britain, that destined savior—the future Eternal King!"
This proposal was appalling, directly challenging ethics and the dignity of royal power! King Uther's pupils shrank, the color draining from his face instantly as his body trembled slightly from extreme shock, anger, and struggle. This was simply a massive desecration of him personally, of his marriage, and of royal authority!
However, Kanjuro (Pseudo-Merlin) just watched him calmly, those deep eyes seemingly able to see the endless worry for the kingdom's future deep in his soul, the unwillingness to let the bloodline end, and the awe toward the one showing 'miracles' before him... as well as a trace of despair that forced him to grab this last straw.
Silence spread between the two, the air filled with the oppression of an approaching storm. On one side was the survival of the kingdom and a glorious future; on the other was personal dignity and the shackles of ethics.
Ultimately, the heavy responsibility of being 'King' and the desire to save the common people from fire and water outweighed everything. King Uther's clenched fists slowly relaxed, and with great difficulty, he squeezed out words from between his teeth, filled with humiliation and resolve:
"...The Red Dragon... legend says it is... deep within the ancient cave under that 'Dragon Breath Mountain' to the west... the magic power there is violent and full of danger, no one has ever been able to go deep into the core and return alive..."
He, the King of Britain, personally pointed out the path to the origin of the kingdom's power for this mysterious Magician calling himself 'Merlin,' and also tacitly approved the plan that would completely change the fate of many people.
A fleeting, cold smile of success crossed the corner of Kanjuro's (Pseudo-Merlin) mouth. The tampering and pollution of the king of knights' root memories officially began here. He leisurely stepped toward Dragon Breath Mountain, his figure lengthening in the sunlight like a dark weaver approaching the threads of fate, going to reweave the legendary beginning named 'King Arthur.'
Following the direction guided by King Uther, Kanjuro (Pseudo-Merlin) arrived at the rugged mountain range known as 'Dragon Breath Mountain' to the west. The closer he got to the main peak, the more violent the magic power in the air became; ordinary creatures simply could not survive here. In the heart of the mountains, he found the entrance to a huge cave surrounded by ancient runes and naturally formed magic crystal clusters, with scorching breath gushing out, accompanied by a low, thunderous sound of breathing.
Deep within the cave sat the Red Dragon that guarded the Leylines of Britain. Its massive body was covered in scales that sparkled like rubies, its pupils burned with molten gold flames, and its mere presence radiated suffocating pressure and ancient divinity. It was the symbol of the power of this land, the embodiment of the kingdom's rise and fall.
Kanjuro's appearance immediately alerted the Red Dragon. It raised its massive head and let out an earth-shattering roar, its Dragon Might sweeping through the cave like a physical shockwave, enough to make an ordinary warrior's heart burst with fear.
"Lowly thief, how dare you covet the power of the Leylines!" The Red Dragon's mental fluctuations entered Kanjuro's mind directly, filled with anger and disdain.
Facing this mythical creature, Kanjuro showed no fear, only an appreciation and indifference as if seeing a suitable material. "It is not stealing, but guiding," he responded calmly, his voice clearly audible amidst the roaring Dragon Might. "The old era needs new power to end it. Your bloodline will create a newborn King who will lead Britain to eternity."
"Arrogant!" The Red Dragon said no more, opening its huge mouth and spitting a torrent of Dragon Breath fire hot enough to melt rock toward Kanjuro!
Kanjuro did not dodge, but simply raised his hand. A dark barrier that seemed capable of swallowing all light instantly unfolded in front of him. The Dragon Breath, capable of incinerating a city, crashed into the barrier, yet it was like a stone dropped into the ocean, failing to cause even a ripple before being completely decomposed and absorbed by that deep darkness.
For the first time, a look of uncertainty appeared in the Red Dragon's golden pupils.
Kanjuro did not give it a chance to attack again. His figure disappeared from the spot like a ghost, and in the next instant, he appeared above the Red Dragon's massive head. He held no weapon in his hand, but simply spread his five fingers and pressed down through the air—
"Boom—!!!"
An invisible yet vast force, like a sea of stars, pressed down hard! The Red Dragon let out a painful wail; its strength, which could shake mountains, seemed so small before this absolute power gap. Its indestructible scales groaned under the burden, and its massive body was pinned ruthlessly to the ground, unable to even lift a claw.
This was a crushing defeat on a dimensional level. Kanjuro didn't even use a Noble Phantasm; he merely mobilized a portion of his own original power, combined with the deep-sea curse properties brought by the codex of rlyeh, to completely subdue this guardian of Britain.
He landed beside the immobile head of the Red Dragon, his gaze falling on an area under the dragon's belly shrouded in soft red light—there lay the core of the Red Dragon's life and power, an embodiment of highly condensed Leyline energy, which could be seen as a special 'Dragon Egg' or power crystal.
Kanjuro reached out, ignoring the Red Dragon's desperate and angry mental shrieks. His fingertips easily pierced through the protective red light, and he extracted an energy crystal about the size of a fist, entirely crimson, with what looked like lava flowing inside. The moment the crystal left its body, the Red Dragon's massive frame twitched violently, the light in its eyes faded rapidly, and its aura became extremely weak. Though not dead, its origin had suffered a heavy blow.
Kanjuro didn't even look at the dying Red Dragon; he examined the warm and powerful Red Dragon crystal in his hand. He casually found a flat stone platform and, using his finger as a pen, drew a simple yet efficient refinement array. Dark magic power was injected, the array lit up, and the Red Dragon crystal was enveloped and refined.
A moment later, the crystal disappeared, replaced by a small globule of viscous liquid floating in the center of the array, radiating scorching energy and brilliant golden-red light—the purest Red Dragon blood, containing the most fundamental power of Britain's Leylines.
Kanjuro did not hesitate, opening his mouth and inhaling the globule of Red Dragon blood into his belly.
"Boom!"
A violent and scorching power instantly exploded within him, like countless fire dragons racing through his veins! An unnatural flush appeared on the surface of his skin, and a golden dragon-shaped light flashed deep in his eyes. This power tried to resist, tried to assimilate him, but before Kanjuro's deeper and more terrifying original power, all resistance was futile. In just a few breaths, the Red Dragon blood was completely suppressed, absorbed, and fused.
Kanjuro slowly opened his eyes, feeling the increased power in his body and his further understanding and control over the concept of the 'Dragon' attribute. He smiled with satisfaction, and his figure disappeared from the cave once more... When Kanjuro (Pseudo-Merlin) reappeared before King Uther, the aura around him seemed even more unfathomable, faintly carrying a hint of Dragon Might that King Uther found both awe-inspiring and familiar.
"Your Majesty, I have obtained the power of the Red Dragon," Kanjuro announced calmly, as if he had only completed a trivial task.
King Uther saw him return empty-handed and was about to be confused, but Kanjuro reached out, palm up. A small cluster of golden-red energy, like liquid fire, jumped and flowed at his fingertips, radiating pure and powerful vitality and Dragon Might. This silent display was more persuasive than any words.
King Uther was completely convinced; the person before him must be a messenger sent by the gods to save Britain!
Kanjuro put away the energy, his gaze calm yet carrying an unquestionable tone as he looked at King Uther: "Then, according to our agreement, please 'offer' the Lady Igraine to me. Tonight shall be the beginning of the new King's conception."
King Uther's body shuddered violently, and a fierce struggle appeared on his face once again. The Queen's dignity, his personal humiliation... but when he saw the jumping dragon power at Kanjuro's fingertips, thought of the kingdom's precarious future, and the 'Eternal King' who could bring peace in the prophecy... he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and as if using all his strength, nodded with great difficulty, his voice dry and weak:
"...Fine... for Britain... I... agree."
He believed, or rather, he forced himself to believe—that this 'Merlin' before him was the only hope sent by the gods to protect Britain. For this, he was willing to pay any price, even if it meant... sacrificing his dignity as a husband and a King.
A deep and cold smile finally formed at the corner of Kanjuro's mouth. The second step of the plan was perfectly achieved. The origin of the King Arthur legend was henceforth cast in a shadow of absolute darkness controlled by him.
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