Chapter 79

As Ai nodded off, exhaustion overtaking her, she nestled deeper into Naruto's arms. Her small frame relaxed completely, her breathing steadying as sleep claimed her. Naruto held her gently, his expression softening as he brushed a few strands of hair from her face. Whatever torment she had endured, she was finally at peace, at least for now.

With Ai asleep, Naruto turned his attention to Ay, the once-mighty Raikage, who now looked like a broken man. His body trembled, his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to gather his composure. Fear still lingered in his eyes, a rare sight from the man known for his unshakable will.

"Let me help you," Naruto said as he formed a shadow clone. The clone approached Ay carefully, but the Raikage recoiled as if burned, trying to shake off the impending touch. His pride resisted, but his body betrayed his weakness.

Regardless of his resistance, Naruto's clone placed a hand on Ay's shoulder, channeling his chakra into the man's body. The golden energy surged through him, purging every lingering trace of darkness that Lord Loss had inflicted upon him. Ay gasped sharply as warmth spread through his veins, the oppressive weight of terror lifting from his soul.

As the corruption dissipated, the Raikage's breathing steadied. The tremors in his limbs subsided, and the fear that had gripped his heart loosened its hold. Yet, even as he regained his composure, a hollowness remained in his eyes—a shadow of what he had just experienced.

"Thank you, Naruto," Ay finally managed, his voice steady but weary. He straightened himself, squaring his shoulders once more, though he still looked shaken. "I will reward you for this service… but for now, please take your leave."

Naruto met his gaze and understood. This wasn't about dismissal—it was about dignity. The Raikage didn't want to be seen like this any longer. He wanted to reclaim his pride, his authority, and in doing so, try to pretend this moment of vulnerability had never happened.

Ay returned to his seat, his hands gripping the desk tightly, as if grounding himself back in reality. His mind undoubtedly lingered on the nightmare realm he had experienced, on the image of himself as a helpless child crawling in terror. Naruto had seen it too, and that knowledge weighed heavily on the Raikage's shoulders.

For a man who prided himself on strength, realizing that the people he swore to protect feared him more than the monsters lurking in the shadows was a painful revelation. It was a wound not of flesh, but of the soul.

"It won't happen again, Lord Raikage," Naruto said, his tone even yet firm. "Take care, and good night, Lord Raikage. Miss Mabui."

Naruto knew that fear would always follow him. No matter how much good he did, no matter how many lives he saved, there would always be those who viewed him with unease, those who would never be able to accept him fully.

It was an undeniable truth of the world. Those who stood at the top would always be both revered and feared. Every great leader, every powerful being, every legend in history had walked the fine line between admiration and terror. It was the nature of humanity itself—to worship and to fear in equal measure.

As he turned to leave, Naruto's thoughts lingered. Hopefully, this fear will not lead them astray.

He wasn't afraid of being feared. He wasn't even afraid of being hated. But he did worry about what that fear could drive people to do. Fear had a way of twisting logic, of pushing people toward desperate, irrational decisions. And if it came to that—if there were those who truly believed they had to destroy him for the sake of the world—then they would only be dooming themselves.

Even if he was necessary for the balance of the world, necessity did not guarantee acceptance. There would always be those who wished to bring him down, even if their own survival depended on his existence.

Such is the burden of power.

With those thoughts swirling in his mind, Naruto made his way home. He stepped through the quiet halls of his residence and carefully laid Ai down on the bed, tucking the blankets around her sleeping form. She looked peaceful now, far removed from the horrors she had faced earlier.

Naruto watched her for a moment, his gaze soft. Then, with a quiet sigh, he settled into his own bed. Tomorrow is a big day.

As he closed his eyes, his mind didn't dwell on the battles of the past, but rather on the future that awaited him—the future he would shape, no matter the cost.

As the small but formidable team arrived in Camelot, the air was thick with excitement. The streets were lined with people, their faces filled with admiration and curiosity as they gazed upon the visitors from the shinobi lands. Colorful banners waved gently in the wind, and the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air, signaling the grand festival that had been arranged in their honor.

Naruto, standing at the forefront of the group, offered a bright, charismatic smile to the people, radiating warmth and confidence. His presence alone seemed to ignite the atmosphere, and cheers erupted from the crowd. His attire, carefully selected by Ino, elevated his usual appearance to something truly regal—his golden hair was neatly styled, his fitted robes of deep crimson and black embroidered with golden patterns accentuated his powerful yet graceful build. He felt slightly self-conscious about the effort put into his appearance, especially considering Ino's goal of making others envious.

'Go knock them out, I want to see their jealous looks.'

Ino's playful words echoed in his mind, and Naruto internally chuckled. She was certainly an interesting one. Unlike Sakura, who had wanted him to dress more modestly to avoid excessive attention, Ino seemed to take pride in showing him off. It was amusing how different women viewed things—some wanted the world to know the value of their treasure, while others preferred to keep it hidden. Then there were those like Hinata, who simply didn't care about appearances as long as he was happy.

Either way, he had to admit the girls had excellent taste in fashion. He had never paid much attention to such things before, but as a leader, it was becoming clear that presentation mattered. He couldn't walk around looking like a wandering vagabond anymore.

Shikamaru, standing slightly behind him, sighed as he took in the grand display. "Troublesome," he muttered under his breath, though his sharp eyes analyzed everything around him.

Gaara, the ever-calm Kazekage, observed the scene with a neutral expression, though his keen senses were fully alert. Kakashi, dressed in his usual battle-ready attire, stood silently, his lone visible eye scanning the area as he absorbed the details of Camelot's environment. Sakura, dressed in a diplomatic yet professional outfit, stood beside Naruto, taking in the surroundings with a mix of curiosity and analysis.

Their attention soon turned to Merlin, who stood at the forefront of a welcoming party composed of knights in gleaming armor. His usual enigmatic smile was present as he addressed them.

"My king understood that you enjoy praise," Merlin explained with an amused glint in his eyes. "Thus, she has commanded this festival in your honor."

At his words, Gaara's gaze sharpened slightly. "How did you know what took place? And what exactly did you tell these people?" he asked, his tone steady and unreadable.

Merlin's smile didn't waver. "Lord Kazekage, you already know how I know," he said knowingly, referencing his deep connection to the flow of the world. "As for what we shared, we told them the truth. Our people know the truth of the world and have complete faith in their king's power."

Naruto's gaze drifted toward the people in the streets. Their expressions, their body language—there was no fear, no doubt in their eyes. Instead, there was pure, unwavering belief. This wasn't just loyalty born out of necessity or fear of punishment. It was something deeper, something far more profound.

The aura of a Perfect King seemed to permeate the very air. Each step they took through the city, Naruto could feel the pull—the overwhelming presence of an ideal ruler, a being so in tune with the world that even nature itself seemed to acknowledge their dominion.

It was subtle yet undeniable. A song of glory, a silent melody woven into the very essence of Camelot. It was not magic, nor was it genjutsu. It was will.

The desire to submit, to yield to such overwhelming charisma and authority, whispered at the back of Naruto's mind. It wasn't something forced; it was natural, instinctual. His heart beat in response to the presence of this unseen yet undeniable force.

Shikamaru subtly clenched his fists, shaking off whatever subconscious effect had touched him. Gaara narrowed his gaze slightly but otherwise remained unaffected, his own will strong enough to resist any external influences. Kakashi and Sakura, though not visibly reacting, were undoubtedly aware of the weight of the presence surrounding them.

Despite their curiosity, none of them pressed Merlin further. There was no point. He had already said what needed to be said, and pressing him for more information would likely yield nothing but cryptic riddles.

Instead, the group chose to take in the grandeur of Camelot, their senses attuned to every detail. This was a place of history, of power, of legends that had shaped the world in ways few could understand.

And at the heart of it all, the Perfect King awaited.

Meeting Artoria Pendragon, the King of Knights, was a privilege few could claim, but for Naruto and his team, there was no waiting, no trials—only a direct path to the throne room. It was a silent acknowledgment of the weight he carried, the deeds he had accomplished.

As the grand doors swung open, a breathtaking sight awaited them.

The throne room was vast, a masterpiece of golden architecture with intricate engravings that depicted the history of Camelot. Banners bearing the insignia of the Holy Kingdom hung from the high walls, while radiant torches illuminated the space with a soft, divine glow. The air itself felt heavy—not oppressive, but powerful, as though the very foundation of the castle pulsed with life.

And at the heart of it all, sitting atop the throne of Camelot, was Artoria Pendragon.

The moment they laid eyes on her, she became an unforgettable presence in their lives.

Her aura commanded absolute obedience. Not through fear or tyranny, but through sheer authority—the kind of authority that could only be possessed by one truly worthy of the throne. Power radiated from her in waves, immense yet controlled, like a golden sun shining down upon her kingdom. But intertwined with that strength was something even more profound: love.

A love that extended to every citizen of her kingdom. A love that defined her very existence as King.

She was both sword and shield—a sovereign whose entire being revolved around the protection and prosperity of her people.

By her side rested Excalibur, the legendary sword of promised victory, its blade shimmering with boundless energy, a symbol of divine kingship. Even at rest, it exuded an unbreakable presence, a reminder that the King of Knights was not one to be taken lightly.

Naruto and his companions instinctively bowed out of respect, recognizing the magnitude of the ruler before them. And when they rose, they all unconsciously positioned themselves behind Naruto—a silent admission of where their loyalty lay. Naruto had become their leader, the one they followed without question.

Artoria's piercing emerald eyes met Naruto's own. Despite her majesty, her gaze was warm, yet firm—measuring, calculating, acknowledging.

She rose from her throne and descended the steps with grace and purpose, moving with the ease of one who had long since discarded human limitations.

"Welcome to the Holy Kingdom, Naruto Uzumaki," she spoke, her voice like a blade wrapped in silk—gentle yet commanding, noble yet unyielding. "We are delighted by your presence and hope you have enjoyed our humble offering in your honor."

Stopping before him, she placed a hand over her heart. "We owe you a great favor for saving this world. As such, we are prepared to grant your desire."

There was sincerity in her words, a deep and genuine gratitude for what he had done.

But Naruto knew the truth.

She didn't have to thank him. In a different timeline, in a different reality, Artoria would have been the one to rise and protect this world.

She was meant to be the original Hero of Earth—the one destined to rise in its greatest hour of need.

But Naruto's existence had altered fate. He was an anomaly, created through the intervention of the Sage of Six Paths, a force introduced to shift the balance of power. He had delayed Artoria's return, stepping into the role that should have been hers.

Yet, it had been necessary.

The Hero of Earth alone had not been enough to save humanity from the threats beyond the stars. That was why the Sage had intervened, why he had introduced chakra, why he had allowed the planet itself to grow stronger.

Without the Sage, Earth was weak.

A fragile world, a mere speck of dust in the grand cosmos, vulnerable to forces beyond comprehension.

But with chakra, with Naruto, it had changed. Humanity had begun its ascent toward universal dominance, even if the people of this world had yet to fully awaken from their dream of mediocrity.

As he stood before Artoria, Naruto's senses expanded, touching the very essence of her being.

He could see it—the deep, unbreakable connection between her and the planet.

He could feel the immortal blood that ran through her veins, the divine heritage that separated her from mere mortals. She was not human. Not anymore.

She had once been, just as he had once been. But now?

They had transcended.

Just as his bloodline carried the echoes of the Sage and the Divine Tree, hers bore the marks of Zeus, Gaia, and another presence—ancient, primal, and draconic.

Albion.

The White Dragon of Britain.

Naruto's eyes, gleaming with Rinne-Sharingan brilliance, locked onto Artoria's emerald gaze.

Two forces, two sovereigns, two warriors bound by fate yet separated by different paths.

In that moment, he understood one truth.

She was not his enemy. She was not his rival.

She was a kindred spirit—a ruler, a protector, a living embodiment of the will of her people.

And this meeting would change the fate of the world.