In the rolling sea of clouds, everything is collapsing.
The so-called fantasy belt does not belong to the correct history at all. It is a dream bubble like a rootless duckweed.
It is for this reason that when the basis of its existence is erased, this virtual world naturally has only one option: to perish and disintegrate under the impact of the force of historical correction.
Xia sat at the highest point of the holy city, on the black iron throne.
Beneath him, the holy city of Camelot, the chalk city, was disappearing in the surging magic power.
First, the outer city wall, then the buildings in the holy city that had been reduced to ruins by the nuclear explosion, and then the royal palace that had survived the nuclear explosion because of Isadela's existence.
As we flew up the palace quickly, the collapse continued.
From the foundation stone at the bottom to the upper floors.
Then, the wave of collapse reached the top of the palace, the outer edge of the throne at the end of the world.
...
...
Char quietly watched the crumbling bricks, sand, dust and chalky boulders.
The young man's figure was reflected in the huge floor-to-ceiling silver mirror between the thrones.
There was a huge, unhealed blood hole on the Akatsuki robe with a black background and red clouds, which went through the chest.
His handsome face was pale, and even his originally bright eyes dimmed a little.
The effect of the broken "Night Watcher's Dagger" is indeed that it can prevent Char from dying for a short period of time, but its effect is only to allow him to retain the last bit of vitality.
The wound from the holy sword remained on Char's body, causing him to feel weak in every part of his body.
The long period of time spent flying the Black Knight mecha in an overloaded state had almost exhausted Char's mental strength. His senses were numb, and he felt weak from deep in his soul, as if he would pass out at any time.
"Really? He looks so embarrassed."
"Is this the price you pay for pretending to be a hero even though you've lost your immortality?"
Char looked at the frail figure on the throne in the mirror and couldn't help but smile.
"If Xiao Ai saw me like this, she would probably be heartbroken."
Pushing himself into such an embarrassing situation was not in line with Char's usual style.
However, this was Char's own choice.
From the moment he once again entered the historical echoes of Esgania, he had already thought of everything.
"Since this is the path I have chosen, I must complete it no matter how absurd it is..."
"I didn't expect that your teachings would be useful at a time like this."
Char recalled the words of his golden elf teacher and couldn't help but shook his head with a smile.
The next moment, his mind moved slightly.
Along with a distortion of space fluctuations, rays of emerald green light carrying vitality appeared around Char.
Then, it was all absorbed into Char's body.
Those were the many medicines stored in his space pocket, and now they were all used up at once regardless of the cost.
And Char, taking advantage of the stimulation of those healing alchemical potions, bit his tongue hard.
The originally dry and exhausted mental strength was once again revitalized.
He leaned back on the throne and stretched out his hand slightly.
The next moment, an illusory point of light, accompanied by pale silver starlight, slowly condensed above Char's head.
After a few breaths, the pale silver light solidified and transformed into a pure silver crown of thorns in mid-air.
This crown of thorns was stolen from Isadella by Char using the thief's gloves. It is the embodiment of the authority of the King of the Fantasy Belt.
And Char just let the thorn-shaped silver crown slowly fall on his head.
Authority merges with Char's soul.
Almost at the same time, his dark eyes shone with incomparably bright and dazzling starlight.
The last bit of mental strength was burned, driving the authority that dominated the fantasy zone.
In the throne room that was constantly being eroded and corrected by the force of history, there was a sudden riot.
Unprecedented, extremely bright starlight illuminates the sky at the end of the world.
"Well then, Your Highness."
In the bright light of day that seems to engulf the world.
Char whispered softly to a girl who was already hard to see beneath the long river of time.
"Let me do one last thing for you."
"Take that distorted, false history."
"Revised, back to the original appearance."
"besides……"
Char's lips moved slightly.
The last words floated down the long river of time, and only the two of them heard them.
…
The long river of time is roaring and surging.
Countless erroneous tributaries were cut off and buried, and correct new directions that were in line with the general trend were opened up.
And around the fantasy zone that originally cut off history and blocked the general trend.
Everything is being "rewritten" at this moment by the new owner of the fantasy belt himself.
Isadella closed her eyes and let herself wander in the waves of history, feeling her imprints and footprints in the past, and obeying her own wishes to be replaced bit by bit.
Holy calendar year 1.
Amid a sea of jubilation, the Foresta Empire was established in the holy city of Camelot.
But at the same time, the ever-victorious knight king who led the entire Esgania out of the dark and turbulent war era and eliminated the abyss monsters and the humble king Vortigern...
However, he chose to hand over the throne of the empire to his own people at the moment the empire was built.
She herself declined to be accompanied by any Knights of the Round Table or guards.
Alone, she came to the border village where she had pulled out the sword from the stone and embarked on the journey to become king. Isadella wandered alone in the wilderness for a long time.
Finally, she leaned against a simple big tree, hugged the golden sword, and slowly closed her eyes.
The sunlight shines through the shade of the big trees, bringing with it mottled shadows and a hint of warmth.
Just like when she and Char first met at the King Selection Ceremony.
"This time, let me sleep longer."
The death of the Knight King caused a great uproar throughout the Western Continent.
No one knows why this powerful man who unified the entire country at a young age and ascended the supreme throne made such a choice.
It was clear that she still had a long life ahead of her, at least two or three hundred years.
He gave up the throne of the empire above all others, and gave up the flowers, applause, and glory that were within his grasp...
Giving up everything a human being can have in this world.
But only Isadella herself knows clearly.
When she bid farewell to the identity of the Knight King, she finally received true redemption.
Of course, the people were shocked and puzzled.
A long time can smooth everything out.
A new king with suitable talents and strength was elected from the relatives of the old king Uther, the Knights of the Round Table were enfeoffed, and eight sworn families were established.
The Knights of the Round Table were in opposition to the nobles, the Sword Bearers rose and fell, and the imperial power repeatedly cycled through decline and prosperity.
The Fresta Empire continued to develop in this way, and the wheel of history rolled on, not stopping according to anyone's will.
And the legend of the original Knight King and Cain was gradually forgotten over time due to the deliberate efforts of the eight oath-taking families.
Until it became a vague and illusory legend that could never be traced back in the mouths of poets.
Thousands of years have passed and the past has been buried in time.
…
Year 903 of the Holy Calendar, month of Bud, 4th day.
The Foresta Empire, the imperial capital is Camelot.
In the mansion of the other courtyard, the silver-haired princess slowly opened her eyes.
In her hand, the golden holy sword was emitting a sharp light.
"Your Highness Isadella, you are finally awake."
A respectful female voice came from the dark shadows, with a hint of urgency.
"You have been silent for a long time. I was anxious and came to check regardless of your orders..."
"Who are you……"
Isadella's gaze was still fixed on the brilliance of the holy sword.
That illusory, unforgettable memory was slowly reviving in her mind.
She looked into the shadows for a long time before she found the name of her confidant from her distant memories: "Flan?"
"It's me, Your Highness."
The female voice in the shadows seemed a little flattered.
"I'm fine, you can leave first."
"As you command, Your Highness."
The servant named Fran retreated quietly, while Isadella continued to stare at the dim candlelight on the table.
Although I have been through a lot of things.
But no matter what, she has now ascended to the throne.
And the mystery of the holy sword has been completely revealed.
With such power, she already has the power to truly become the empress of the empire and purge the entire territory.
All the goals set initially have been achieved.
"But--"
There was a faint light flickering in the second princess' beautiful red eyes.
In her ears, the boy's last words on the illusory throne were still echoing.
"Please forgive my self-assertion, Your Highness."
"I am your sword bearer, and this is the only way I can conceive of to save my liege."
"Also, although we are separated now, please give me some time, so that we can meet again at the current time point, in that real history."
"Then it will be us—"
"The unfinished dream of the king and the knight... the continuation of the dream."
…
"A continuation of the dream?"
Isadella repeated the word.
"In that case, let me wait here for you to come back."
"Waiting, the story of the knight and the king will be continued."
"I want you to be my husband, the prince of the empire—"
The holy sword in his hand turned into a pale golden light and slowly dissipated.
Isadella remained silent, feeling the warmth in her heart filling up little by little.
"The day when you become the only male protagonist in my story."
………………
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