"Master, your complexion doesn't seem too good..." Yulina curiously said to Arkhan.
Arkhan touched his own face.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Yes, Teacher, you seem to be in a bad mood today. It's been like this since morning." Artoria responded.
"Umu, umu." Kay nodded in agreement from the side.
'Fuck me...' Arkhan sighed silently to himself.
He didn't want it to be this way, but every time he thought about the over two thousand layers of seals that Merlin had placed on the sword, Arkhan couldn't help but curse.
'That white-haired dick wizard bastard, can't he do something reliable for once!?'
For the past half-month, Arkhan had been trying to figure out how to break these over two thousand layers of seals, exhausting various methods, all to no avail.
Now, the only method left before him was to attempt to use Jizo Mitama to corrupt those seals.
But those were seals placed by the Grand Caster's candidate, and there were a full two thousand layers of them. Even if Jizo Mitama could truly corrupt them, his magical energy would undoubtedly not hold up.
So, Arkhan had once again sought out Merlin, urging him to break the seals as soon as possible, no matter how many he could manage to remove.
The rest would have to be left to fate.
"Lily, there's something I need to tell you in advance."
"Teacher, please go ahead." Artoria nodded.
"If I can't pull out the sword later, it will have to be you..." Arkhan said helplessly.
"...Why?" Artoria's eyes widened, and her ahoge stood on end.
Kay also looked puzzled.
Half a month ago, Artoria had voluntarily shared her plan to give up pulling the sword from the stone with Ector and Kay.
Ector had neither agreed nor disagreed; he only said—"As long as the wise Merlin has no objections, then I have none. You should decide for yourself."
However, Kay had some difficulty accepting it because he didn't want to see Artoria's over a decade of hard work go to waste. Yet, from the depths of his heart, he believed Arkhan was better suited for the position of king than his own foster sister.
Moreover, the thought that Artoria wouldn't have to bear such a heavy responsibility brought him comfort.
But now, seeing Arkhan's current attitude, what changes might occur later?
"Teacher, didn't you say you had already asked Merlin to remove the seals?" Artoria asked anxiously.
'But those were over two thousand layers of seals for fuck's sake!'
Arkhan cursed inside his mind and then sighed.
"Hahh... I'm just letting you know in advance. Don't worry, even if I can't pull out the sword and become the king, I'll be there by your side, helping you manage the country."
Artoria's eyes flickered with uncertainty. What had happened that even her usually all-capable and confident teacher was showing such a helpless expression?
===
On the stone hill, numerous knights eagerly gathered, their gazes intensely fixed on a massive rock perched at the summit.
It was just an ordinary stone that many present could easily lift, but what truly captivated their attention was not the stone itself. It was a sword standing tall above the rock.
That was a golden sword, and its exact appearance remained a mystery because most of its blade lay hidden beneath the stone. The exposed portion reflected a luxurious brilliance in the sunlight.
That was the sword of the king known as the Golden Sword of the Victorious—Caliburn.
The Great Mage Merlin had prophesied over a decade ago that whoever could pull the sword in the stone would become the new king of Camelot.
An elderly man in priestly robes made his way up the mountain path.
"It's Archbishop Canterbury!"
"He's here! Finally!"
"Fifteen years of waiting, the new king is about to appear!"
The crowd buzzed with anticipation.
Canterbury ascended the stone, standing beside the sword in the stone, surveying the crowd. When he saw Artoria standing in the corner, his gaze paused for a moment.
'I wonder if what we're doing is right or wrong...'
Canterbury sighed inwardly but maintained a calm demeanor on the surface. Opening his mouth, he spoke with a voice that defied his aged appearance:
"Knights of Britain! The day prophesied by the Great Mage Merlin for the selection of the king has arrived. The successor to King Uther is about to appear today! This land is about to welcome a new king!
He will become a dragon, gather the mighty Knights of the Round Table, defeat the Vile White Dragon, expel the invaders, and unite Britain! Today, he will appear here!
Now—pull the sword! This is the holy sword of the king, the banner of victory! Whoever can pull this sword out will be the chosen king!"
""Pull the sword!""
""Pull the sword!""
The crowd cheered, even those who knew they had no chance of pulling the sword couldn't help but show excitement.
Bearing witness to the crowning of a new king was an honor in itself!
"Then..." Canterbury waved his hand dramatically, "Let the selection begin!"
The knights eagerly stepped forward, clamoring to ascend the stone hill and attempt to pull Caliburn.
But in the end, they all descended disheartened. Everyone failed, without exception.
Whether they were powerful strongmen capable of lifting enormous weights or mages disguised as knights, none could pull the sword.
"This is absurd! I can lift a six-hundred-pound boulder, but I couldn't even make that sword budge!"
"I feel like that sword is connected to this entire mountain."
"Could it be true, as the Great Mage Merlin said, that only the chosen king can pull the sword in the stone?"
The knights complained, questioned, and were confused.
Among them, many had been preparing for this day since fifteen years ago, but the final result left them utterly defeated.
Onlookers also began to sense that something was amiss. It had been so long, and the sword still hadn't been pulled yet.
Had Merlin's prophecy been wrong? Had the chosen king not yet arrived?
Anxiety began to spread.
"Two thousand layers of seals in total, all for the sake of my dear sister. Merlin really went to great lengths..." mused the tall veiled-face woman in an unnoticed corner, pursing her lips as she gazed at the sword in the stone.
"I wonder if he can actually pull the sword..." Her pale golden eyes flicked toward the black-haired man standing in another corner.
Arkhan suddenly felt as though he was being watched and instinctively turned his head to find a mysterious woman. She wore a black dress and a black veil covered her face, giving off a mysterious aura.
'Morgan le Fay?'
Arkhan raised an eyebrow slightly. Though he had never met her before, he instantly recognized her identity.
Suddenly, he saw Morgan nod at him beneath her black veil, revealing a faint, mysterious smile.
The legendary witch was actually smiling at him, and this made Arkhan feel somewhat pleasantly surprised that she was so friendly to him.
Arkhan nodded back at her and returned a friendly smile. It must be because of his help with her sister, Guinevere.