When Alaric dissipated his magical energy and took the seven stakes given to him by Gilgamesh, he arrived at the location of the node—a desolate cliff.
According to Gilgamesh's explanation, these seven stakes could draw magical energy as long as they were placed roughly in position, though their effect would be optimal if placed precisely at the center.
Without any ceremonial preamble, Alaric, wearing a bracelet, directly cast the seven stakes.
Like a hot knife slicing through butter, the seven stakes effortlessly embedded themselves into the ground.
Zzzzz...!
Since the activation magic of the stakes was infused by Alaric himself, it naturally radiated a pitch-black starlight.
Simple glowing patterns were traced in the air, intertwining continuously. Under Alaric's watchful gaze, they seemed to transform into an incomprehensible language.
Unlike the magus of later eras who required complex incantations to perform mysteries, in this age when the gods had yet to depart, all phenomena were closer to the Root of All Things.
The conditions for performing mysteries were simple and powerful.
At this moment, what unfolded before Alaric—
Was the old myth.
The pitch-black glow descended to the ground under Alaic's gaze, spreading rapidly in all directions.
Wherever it passed, stones melted and sank slightly, as the pitch-black glow transformed into a tangible magical ritual.
Centered around the seven stakes, the ritual expanded, embedding itself deeply into the summit of Mount Ebih—a mythical peak of Mesopotamia—leaving behind an indelible mark.
As Alaric poured more magical energy into it, the surging energy flowed through the magical pathways constructed by the seven stakes, delving deeper into the spiritual peak.
At this moment, Mount Ebih, a peak of immense mythical significance in Mesopotamia, fully revealed itself before Alaric.
After just a few seconds, Alaric felt an immense and boundless presence manifest before him.
"…"
It was the presence of the leyline, the very pulse of this star beneath his feet.
Through the magical ritual, Alaric's magical energy and consciousness made true contact with the leyline, successfully constructing a connection.
But Alaric did not stop there. He continued to delve deeper into the leyline, seeking to uncover the veil of mystery.
At the same time, as Alaric successfully connected to the leyline, the magical ritual constructed by the seven stakes was fully completed.
Boom!!
In the instant the ritual was finished, an unexpected phenomenon occurred.
What should have been a calm connection to the leyline, drawing magical energy through the ritual, was disrupted by unknown factors, transforming it into a force that seemed like a spear intent on piercing through the entirety of Mount Ebih!
The term piercing is metaphorical; what truly unfolded before Alaric was a torrent of surging star energy.
If a human body could be likened to a star, then the hypothetical magic circuits would resemble the leyline, converting life force or the Great Source into magical energy.
The leyline, then, is the star's pulse, and the magical energy flowing through it could be called the Breath of the Stars.
The result of the seven stakes seemingly striking through Mount Ebih was a sudden eruption of leyline energy!
A seismic, earth-shaking force surged from the spiritual peak below, a manifestation of overwhelming magical energy!
Having anticipated this moment, Alaric had already donned the bracelet-like artifact designed to act as a receiving device.
The connection had long since begun.
Realizing this, Alaric had no time to remove the artifact before an overwhelming surge of magical energy flooded into the bracelet, violently pouring into his body!
Almost instantly, the dragon's blood within Alaric's body surged to its peak alongside the pitch-black light.
The pitch-black starlight shot into the sky, spreading across the summit of Mount Ebih like a swirling, dark nebula. Within the multicolored darkness, streaks of crimson light intertwined, forming the shape of a dragon that roared silently.
In less than a few breaths, the godly magical energy that surged into Alaric's body exceeded the total amount of True Ether he had absorbed over the past several days!
"It's about to overflow—"
Thud.
Drenched in cold sweat, Alaric dropped to one knee, summoning the Holy Lance Rhongomyniad without hesitation. Using the spear's nature as the Tower at the End, he channeled the overwhelming magical energy into it to reduce the burden.
His left hand clutched his chest tightly as if his heart might explode at any moment.
Or perhaps it already had.
The price of having magical energy far surpassing his body's limits forcibly poured into him was the collapse of his physical form.
But fortune and misfortune are intertwined. With the influx of such astonishing energy, Alaric's long-dormant regenerative abilities were reactivated.
With the support of the leyline's magical energy, an unimaginable level of healing power was unleashed.
A non-human vitality capable of reviving the dead and regrowing flesh and bone manifested within Alaric's body!
It was this vitality that instantly healed the ruptured Dragon Core in his chest, reconnecting the severed magic circuits.
As this familiar vitality bloomed within him once more, Alaric had no time to feel joy. The changes within his body extended far beyond mere healing.
Not only had his vitality surged, but the growth of his dragon blood—and the changes it brought—became increasingly apparent.
The massive influx of magical energy filled the dragon's blood to saturation, accelerating a transformation that should have taken years.
In this age of gods, the red dragon blood of Britain finally revealed its true brilliance. The result was that Alaric's body had truly reached the level of a Dragonkind.
Yes, Dragonkind.
If Merlin were present, he would likely remark with a mix of surprise and amusement, "Oh my, you've turned into a dragon, haven't you?"
Alaric's skin became more resilient, impervious to blades and fire.
His muscle density soared, granting him explosive strength that rivaled legendary heroes.
The bones supporting his body also transformed, surpassing physical laws under the influence of magical energy.
The dragon blood coursing through his veins surged like a mighty river, binding his body together seamlessly.
An indescribable aura of mystery, belonging to a true dragon, emanated from Alaric's form.
If Alaric could measure his abilities at this moment, he would discover a name that resonated deeply with him—
"Armor of Fafnir."
This was the legendary Noble Phantasm born from Siegfried's feat of slaying the dragon Fafnir and bathing in its blood. But for Alaric, the transformation was not a Noble Phantasm—it was pure defensive power reaching a level comparable to it.
A humanoid dragon; nothing less.
But more than the changes brought by his dragon blood, Alaric's attention was drawn to a deeper, more personal transformation.
A change tied to the pitch-black light.
At first, Alaric had assumed the change in his magical energy was due to the Lion King's bestowed Sword of End. However, as time passed, he noticed discrepancies.
Yet he could never uncover the source of the pitch-black light—until now.
In this environment saturated with godly magical energy, Alaric seemed to glimpse a fragment of the truth.