As Merlin prepared to leave, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly—how had this child become so decisive in just a few years?
"Wait," Aslan called out to the departing Merlin, fingering the forging hammer in his hand before reluctantly hooking it back onto his belt. "As the price for me not interfering with your prophecy, how about you give me some information… and a ride while you're at it?"
He still rather wanted to test whether Merlin's skull or his own forging hammer was sturdier, but since this guy had already shown up, naturally he had to wring a few answers out of him.
Merlin paused in the middle of preparing his spell, his expression turning somewhat helpless. "Isn't this basically trying to get something for nothing? Even if I didn't give you the intel, it's not like you'd help the White Dragon anyway…"
Looking into Aslan's pale blue eyes and that half-smiling, half-indifferent expression—like everything was his decision to make—Merlin sighed.
Fine. He really couldn't bet on that one-in-ten-thousand chance. Ever since he'd met this child, he should've known he'd always be played by him, in the palm of his hand.
Until… the curtains finally fell.
"What do you want to know, child of the White Dragon?"
Merlin shrugged, though his tone grew slightly more serious. He always reminded this boy of his identity—there were some things that mustn't be touched, some fates that mustn't be changed.
Aslan touched his chest where he kept the contract ring. From the very beginning, his goal had been clear: complete the contract ring first, then delve further into the study of magic and forging so he could fulfill Melusine's wish to modify his physical body.
If he wanted to carry out changes to Melusine's body and meet her requirements, it wouldn't be possible with mere rudimentary techniques. Truth be told, Aslan deeply envied the Machine Gods' construction technology.
But it was still too early for that. Right now, Aslan had only learned the Fairy Script. His next objective was to study magic and deepen his limited knowledge.
So he asked Merlin, "Since you've been watching over the development of Britannia, you must've noticed that mages from the continent have started approaching this island, right?"
His goal was straightforward. Once the battle between the Red and White Dragons ended, and once the island's true Ether began to dissipate and drift across the land, the mages from the continent would eventually establish the Clock Tower here.
Right now, Aslan intended to track down those mages. As for Morgan...
According to Merlin, his cousin would soon draw the Sword of Selection, and jealousy would begin to erode her heart, changing her into someone else. If he sought her out now, he might well become just another pawn in her game.
Besides, Morgan loved Britannia. That tragic ending wasn't one she desired either. The one truly torturing this land now was his so-called father. If Morgan discovered his bloodline... who knew what a woman so devoted to Britannia would do?
As Merlin had said, some things could be changed—others mustn't be touched. We might try to make a different flower bloom on a branch that never bloomed before, but we must never attempt to preserve a flower destined to wither.
With that in mind, even Aslan didn't know what he would do if all of this truly played out before him. Merlin had hidden away in Avalon partly because he had angered the fae, but also because he didn't know how to face the ending he had foreseen. He regretted it—yet had no choice but to let fate play out.
Aslan had his own interpretation of how fate unfolded.
The decline of the Age of Gods was a fixed truth. Within that, small changes could still occur. Take Arthur and Artoria, for instance. Excluding the Lion King's Holy Spear form, compare their stories.
The overall narrative was nearly identical, yet the details differed. In Arthur's campaign against Rome, Gawain followed despite his injuries. But in Artoria's story, Gawain stayed behind in Britannia to fight the rebelling Mordred.
Even in differing legends, the three Knights of the Grail had varying endings—some attained the Holy Grail, others didn't.
So Aslan dared to speculate boldly: King Arthur, as the Red Dragon, would certainly defeat the White Dragon. He would gather the Knights of the Round Table, the Holy Grail would be found and returned to the heavens, and Arthur would win his campaign against Rome. But afterward, something would happen—something that would cause his disappearance from Britannia.
That would mark the end of the Britannian era.
Within this framework, the grand arc couldn't be altered—but the path along the way could.
In other words: the small can be changed, the great cannot be reversed.
He might yet take part in this grand narrative, doing his best to ensure that while the main arc remained, everyone might get a happier ending. For instance, what if, instead of dying, Artoria simply went into eternal seclusion in Avalon?
Of course, whether this was even possible would depend on his future study of magic, the world, and the Counter Force. As for whether to tell Merlin his theory now, Aslan thought it best to wait until Merlin regretted his own misjudgment.
When Merlin heard Aslan's request, he let out a breath of relief. He had been worried the boy would ask something troublesome—like asking him to personally teach him magic.
What a joke! The greatest swordsman in Britannia could teach swordsmanship, sure, but magic? Wasn't that something one just picked up if they had a brain?
"The mage you're looking for is currently lingering around a city on the eastern coast," Merlin said. "But with the situation on the island so tense, they're likely staying well hidden."
Aslan nodded. He had already anticipated that. He was seeking an authentic old-school mage. These practitioners of an earlier age still clung to the characteristics of their kind—who knew what outdated ideals or eccentricities they carried?
But right now, he had no other choice.
Just then, Melusine finished packing their travel essentials. As she stepped out, her eyes instantly locked onto Merlin standing before Aslan. Without a second thought, she dropped everything she was carrying and drew her sword in one fluid motion.
"Fae are bad enough! But why the hell is a Nightmare after Aslan too?!"