“I humbly submit to the Sun of the Empire.”

Najin raised his head and looked at the emperor seated above them all. His sunset-colored eyes shone.

“I have no intention of belonging to any group. If there is a place I must belong, if there is anything that must precede my name—”

Things he had considered over and over. Words he had dreamed of over and over. Najin spoke the sentences he had consequently learned by heart.

“It would be none other than the title of knight. By knight, I do not mean one who follows a particular house or lord.”

“Oh?” The emperor chuckled, for he thought he knew what Najin meant.

“A knight for knights. A knight for humanity. A knight who does what ought to be done. I mean the honorable knights who crossed the continent under King Arthur’s leadership a thousand years ago.”

“A true knight. An Atanga, then.”

He did not mean the present-day Atanga Knight Order, but the figures who had inspired it. History had given the name Atanga to the honorable knights who raced across the world alongside King Arthur.

“Precisely.”

Najin affirmed the emperor’s words and continued.

“What I seek is the right to be called an Atanga. And that right cannot be bestowed by anyone. I must prove myself worthy of it.”

No noble or organization in the world, not even the emperor, could name someone an Atanga. Even the Atanga Knight Order only called its members knights of Atanga, never using the word Atanga alone.

If anyone could earn the right to be called an Atanga, it would be bestowed by the world and by history.

“Thus, no group holds any meaning for me. They are meaningless.”

“You mean to walk a lonely path, then. Where will that path lead? I have yet to hear where you intend to go and what you intend to achieve.”

Tell me, then. Show me the road you will take.

That was the emperor’s challenge, and Najin smiled as though those were the very words he had been waiting for.

“I am based in Cambria, but I do not intend to stay there forever. A few months at most. I will leave Cambria and venture beyond the continent.”

Beyond the continent.

“Before long, I will head to the Demon Realm. I will cut down the demons that threaten the Empire and humanity. Ultimately, I will turn my sword upon the great evil known as the Demon King. Nor will I stop there.”

“And then?”

The emperor asked, and Najin answered.

“I will journey to the Battlefield of Stars. I will bring down the tainted stars. And I intend to hang stars of my own in the sky, one by one. Just as the great hero did a thousand years ago.”

“And after that journey?”

“Is the answer not already clear?”

His tone was somewhat irreverent, but the emperor did not rebuke him. Instead, he burst into loud laughter.

“As you say. It must be clear. The lands of the Abyss. Camlann.”

Najin’s silence was his assent.

The emperor understood what he was trying to say. That understanding made him laugh. This young man was declaring that he would walk the same path as Arthur. That he would follow the very road countless heroes had traveled.

Calling it a path of thorns did not begin to describe it. It was a road filled with suffering and trials far too immense for a mere human to endure, where even an end in death was a light fate.

“It is a harsh and treacherous road.”

Eldwin smiled wryly.

“Why would you walk such a path? Countless people would pay untold fortunes to claim you. If you wished, you could have gold, beautiful women, power... so many sweet rewards.”

“They hold no sweetness for me.”

Najin spoke firmly, without the slightest hesitation.

“They are also woefully inadequate to quench my thirst. All I desire is honor and pride.”

What an Atanga must possess. What heroes and knights must carry within them.

“And stars. Nothing else.”

The emperor glanced at Gerd.

Gerd nodded, signifying that there was not a single trace of falsehood. Anyone who lied before his eyes could never escape his senses.

And so the emperor felt genuine admiration.

These were fanciful words. A fanciful ideal. Yet someone was speaking of them in earnest.

This was a kind of person that had gone extinct in this age. Though astonished by that fact, the emperor remained silent. Mere words held no value. Even if every word was sincere, a string of unproven claims meant nothing.

But the emperor knew there was one virtue Najin had already proved. It could be found among his deeds of the past half year: the incident involving a knight of Atanga. The Royal Guard who had investigated it thoroughly had returned with several statements from that knight.

[“He is a boy who understands pride.”]

[“Few speak of the chivalry of the knights of old. Fewer still speak of it in earnest. And when it comes to those who put it into practice, need I say more?”]

Argo, the knight of Atanga who had encountered the boy, had given his testimony with a smile.

[“But there was one such person there.”]

[“That boy carries pride within him. Though he may not yet possess honor, he knows what honor is. I, Argo, a knight of Atanga, vouch for that.”]

[“Would that not suffice as testimony?”]

The testimony of a knight of Atanga.

The emperor knew how much it was worth. Their words, at least, could be trusted. It meant the minimum conditions had been met.

Eldwin Pendragon, emperor of the Empire, looked at Najin with a faint smile. After a brief pause, he spoke.

2.

“I have heard your aspirations.”

Eldwin let out a long breath.

“But there is a flaw in your words. You know it, do you not? As you yourself said, you are not yet worthy. You have not proven it through your life.”

Najin remained silent. The emperor had struck at the heart of the matter.

He had stated his aspirations, but they were no more than that. He had yet to prove a single one.

“Unproven words. Aspirations full of nothing but spirit. My trust carries too much weight for me to place it in the fanciful words of one who has yet to earn that right. Such is the nature of this seat.”

Eldwin smiled bitterly and gestured at the throne.

The gesture meant that the burden of being emperor was too heavy to make decisions based on personal likes and dislikes. Najin agreed.

The emperor had already yielded enough. Now it was Najin’s turn to offer a compromise.

But just as Najin was about to speak, the emperor continued, as though to say he was not yet finished.

“Therefore, I will give you a chance.”

The emperor smiled.

“I will watch you. Nor will I be alone. The entire continent will watch and judge you. The world’s judgment will be my judgment, and my choice.”

“And,” the emperor added, exhaling.

“If you fail to prove yourself worthy, if you choose the wrong path, if you abandon the knight’s path without keeping the promises you have made here, I will place a collar around your neck that very instant.”

An imperial knight, or a hound.

“But if you prove yourself worthy, if you finally earn the right to be called an Atanga...”

Eldwin smiled as though he truly looked forward to that day.

“I promise you the rank of free knight and the right to bear the crest of Britain. You know what that means, do you not?”

A free knight recognized by the Empire and the imperial family.

Someone who need not obey anyone’s commands, who possessed the right to do only what they themselves believed was right. It was the rank once bestowed upon Arthur’s followers, the rank held by those who gathered under the name of the Round Table.

Najin’s eyes widened. It was an offer he had never imagined.

Despite Najin’s failure to provide any proof, the emperor had imposed no restrictions. He had merely said he would watch. Najin bowed his head and expressed his gratitude—not as a hollow observance of etiquette, but sincerely.

“As I said before, a swordsman proves himself through his sword. You must prove yourself through yours.”

“Gladly.”

“I will be watching. Remember that the Empire’s eyes are upon you.”

With those final words, the emperor rose.

* * *

“The Empire is going to be abuzz.”

The emperor murmured as he walked down the corridor. Gerd, the Empire’s Sword Master, followed one step behind him and spoke.

“Is it wise to let him go so freely?”

The Empire’s foremost warrior. The old man who believed in only two things—the sword and the Empire—offered his counsel. As the First Pillar of the Empire, he was permitted a certain measure of discourtesy. He spoke frankly to the emperor.

“He is dangerous. Exceedingly so.”

“I know, Sir Gerd.”

“I believe it would have been better to establish at least a minimal safeguard.”

“You are right. I will not deny it.”

Ordinarily, he should have imposed at least one shackle, whether a blood covenant, a soul oath, or anything else. But the emperor had not.

“That boy is a seed of discord.”

“Listen, Sir Gerd.”

Eldwin spoke quietly.

He had ascended the throne at a young age, and he respected Gerd, who had served both his predecessor and the emperor before that. Out of that respect, his voice remained gentle.

“I said I know. I am telling you that I acted as I did despite knowing.”

Gerd silently bowed his head, apologizing for having overstepped. The emperor waved a hand dismissively and smiled wryly.

“Your criticism is sound. If imperial authority were faltering and the Empire showed signs of division, I would have done as you advised. But the Empire is strong now. After the Great Purge a hundred and fifty years ago and several other incidents, is imperial authority not stronger than ever?”

He spoke as he walked.

“And you, the sword of the Empire, uphold it. Is the Empire now so weak that a paltry flame like that could burn it down?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Indeed. I am the emperor, but before I am emperor, I am Eldwin Pendragon. If I doubt a boy who declares he will become a hero and put him in chains... how could I proclaim the name Pendragon?”

Eldwin Pendragon chuckled.

“If you are still concerned, watch him yourself. After all, I have just told the boy that the Empire will be watching. If you, the sword of the Empire, are not the Empire, who is?”

The emperor flicked his sleeve, as if to say that Gerd looked thoroughly fired up and should hurry along if he wanted to see the boy. Gerd smiled wryly at the young emperor’s gesture and bowed.

“For Your Majesty’s grace...”

“Enough, enough. Just go.”

3.

Blindfolded once more and escorted out of the imperial castle and into a reception room, Najin let out a long breath. He felt utterly drained.

‘Somehow, it all worked out.’

-It did. This emperor fellow is pretty decent, isn’t he?

Najin agreed. He had never expected things to go this well. He even felt that the emperor might remain an ally if the truth of his possession of Excalibur came to light.

-Still, it’s too soon.

‘That is true.’

Najin smiled wryly.

Having the emperor as an ally would be more reassuring than anything, but it was still a little too early to reveal Excalibur. The moment he did, a great war would erupt.

The Empire proclaimed its unity, but not everyone obeyed imperial commands. Not every Sword Master rallied beneath the emperor’s banner. Those who plotted in secret, those who schemed rebellion, and those who colluded with demons existed in every age.

They were merely waiting for their moment. When that moment came, they would rise.

The Empire would still be a dependable ally, but even it could not prevent a great war. The moment Excalibur’s owner was revealed, the fallen stars would gain a cause. The cursed inhabitants of Camlann would seethe, and demons and dragons would sing their rage. It would mark the beginning of a great war that split the world in two.

Even a Sword Seeker was only one individual, powerless in the face of war.

Only beings who had transcended humanity—transcendent beings such as Constellations and superhumans—could hold their ground without being swept away by the tide of war. Having become a Sword Seeker, Najin had revealed some things, but he still had no intention of revealing Excalibur.

‘Of course, they will suspect me.’

-The Constellations can’t act without concrete evidence. As long as they can’t act, there’s nothing to worry about. Right?

Najin nodded.

‘Still, I have a long way to go.’

-The youngest Sword Seeker certainly has a lot to complain about.

Najin laughed at Merlin’s teasing.

How long had he been waiting in the reception room? The person who had summoned him there opened the door and entered. It was exactly who he had expected.

“Good to see you. It has been a month.”

Sword Master Yuel Razian.

She waved at Najin, a liquor bottle in her hand, then set it down before him with a clack.

“Would you care for a drink?”

“I must respectfully decline.”

Hadn’t she told him last time that this liquor caused burning pain even for a Sword Master? If Najin drank it now, it would probably sear his throat.

“What a pity.”

She did not look disappointed in the slightest.

Still expressionless, Yuel began pulling a cup and snacks from inside her clothes. Her hands moved with remarkable speed, and for some reason the sight reminded him of Karon.

Karon drank cheap liquor with jerky. What Yuel produced, however, was the finest holy wine and the finest snacks.

Spreading out the snacks various businesses had presented to her, Yuel began drinking. It was odd to summon someone and immediately start drinking, but Najin already knew what she was like and waited in silence.

“Ah...”

Yuel lowered her cup and exhaled at length.

“Najin. So your name was Najin. You lied to me then, did you not? Twice, in fact.”

Yuel narrowed her eyes. Her blood-red eyes gleamed menacingly.

“One was your name. The other was agreeing that I was the first Sword Master you had met. Sword Saint Karon already knew you. And according to the imperial family’s intelligence, he made contact with you before I did.”

Yuel Razian smiled.

“Explain yourself. I will give you a chance.”

It was an exceptionally beautiful smile, and a dangerous one.