In the fence behind the inn.
Mordred threw a shining silver one-handed sword towards Hewitt.
The boy hastily caught the weapon and looked at Mordred innocently and blankly.
Mordred said:
"You want to change your fate, don't you?
"Hewitt, if you want something, you must take it yourself instead of relying on others' charity. I chose you because I need you, but if you lack even basic abilities, then I'll have to choose a different 'successor'."
The boy gripped the sword with his hands, which was as long as his arm, and took on a completely amateurish stance, his eyes fixated on Mordred.
The knight laughed:
"That's the spirit, you've found your place."
Buzz!
He suddenly drew the long sword from his waist, took a big step forward, and then swung his weapon at the boy's sword blade. With a "snap", Hewitt could no longer hold onto the hilt of his sword.