Arthur's successor, who would appear someday. A potential hero chosen by Excalibur.

Over the past several hundred years, Merlin had imagined meeting such a person countless times. Of course, no one could ever become greater than Arthur... but being chosen by Excalibur would at least mean they possessed the necessary qualities.

Even if they fell short of Arthur, surely they would have the stature of a hero.

That was why, when the sword had been drawn recently, the only candidates Merlin had considered were those hailed as the heroes of this age.

The Sword Master hailed as the greatest of the age? Or the Sword Saint who led the Order of the Sword? If neither of them, perhaps the commander of that proud knight order which upheld the ancient knightly code?

To be honest, none of the candidates particularly impressed her, but they just barely deserved a passing grade. They possessed the fame, skill, and character needed to wield Excalibur.

'And yet.'

Merlin looked at what stood before her: a boy holding a shining sword, wearing an utterly aggravating expression.

A boy who had neither reached the rank of Sword Master nor demonstrated any great virtue. Who lacked the fully developed stature of a hero, and had no fame or achievements whatsoever.

The only thing he could boast of was having insulted Arthur—and that deserved a deduction, not extra credit. Merlin mentally graded the boy before her.

Forget passing. He failed.

He was like a candidate brought in for an interview who had promptly taunted the interviewer and flipped her off. Merlin felt her forehead throb.

'This little shit... is his successor?'

She wanted to shout that this was no successor of Arthur's and get him out of her sight.

'Why on earth?'

Merlin cast a sidelong look at the sword in Najin's hand.

Excalibur, the Sword of Selection. The blade that had come to represent King Arthur's will after his death.

'Why would you choose a brat like him...?'

Her king was dead and gone now.

Remembering Arthur as he had been in life, Merlin let out a long sigh. The Sword of Selection chose those with the makings of a hero. But selecting the path that hero would walk was the task of Merlin, the Staff of Selection.

Merlin looked at the boy before her.

She could not shake her dislike, but she steadied her breathing, setting aside his insult against Arthur and her personal feelings as best she could. Whatever else he was, the damned brat had drawn the sword. That fact would not change.

He had broken centuries of silence by drawing Excalibur. She needed to know what the sword had seen in him—what potential had led it to select this boy.

Steadying her breath, Merlin closed her eyes, then opened them.

Stars appeared within those eyes, blue as a lake, as though a constellation submerged deep beneath the water were rising to the surface.

"Brat."

Merlin glared at Najin.

"Can you really handle that?"

It was both a warning and advice.

And it was a trial Merlin was setting before him.

「That is no sword for a human to possess.」

「I mean it is a sword you cannot handle.」

「You will break, you know.」

Arthur, too, had faced this trial hundreds of years ago. Merlin put the very same question to the boy before her that she had once put to Arthur, before he was called a hero, before he had truly begun to distinguish himself.

"You will break, you know."

To test him.

And to select.

'Select what?'

His qualities and potential.

2.

"You will break, you know."

Najin frowned at Merlin's words.

"What do you mean?"

"That sword you're holding. I don't think you understand yet what drawing Excalibur means."

Merlin extended a finger, pointing at the sword in Najin's hand.

"Drawing Excalibur doesn't simply mean becoming Arthur's successor. As long as you hold that sword, you must walk the path of a hero. Excalibur will see to that."

Excalibur, the Sword of Selection.

A sword that selected a potential hero and, at the same time, compelled its wielder to become one. Storybooks described this as something noble and beautiful, but...

"Countless obstacles await you on the path you walk with that sword. Countless, countless trials."

Reality was nothing like the stories.

Hardship and trials made heroes. They walked thorn-strewn paths, forever balancing on the boundary between life and death. That was the truth of those called heroes.

"The cursed beings of Camlann, the Knight of Rebellion and his followers, the dragon at the end of the world and the Witch of Abandoned Things..."

Merlin took a step. A shimmering haze rose wherever she stepped.

"Filthy beings that have driven countless heroes to their deaths and violated their souls and bodies. All of them will turn their attention to you. And do you think that's all?"

Merlin sighed.

"How many of those countless constellations in the sky do you think will disapprove of you? And how many people living on the earth below will want you gone?"

Endless, endless malice.

"Can you endure that?"

These things inevitably accompanied a hero's path.

"I wouldn't be saying this if you were already somewhat established. If you were a Sword Master, a hero, the head of some organization, or someone of exceedingly noble birth..."

If he were a Sword Master who had embarked on the path of transcendence. If he were a hero with sufficient feats and renown. If he had followers of his own—or even a solid foundation that would not waver.

"If you'd possessed even one of those things when you drew the sword, everything I've said would merely be advice."

With even one of those things, he could stand firm against the winds buffeting him from outside. Even if he did falter, he would soon regain his footing.

"But you don't."

Merlin looked straight at Najin.

"You have nothing. You'll sway easily in the wind. You might even lose your way. You're all too likely to become a plaything for the powerful, prey they can toy with, a puppet they can easily control."

That was the future she foresaw for the boy.

"How will you..."

"Why are you going on so long?"

Najin cut Merlin off. She frowned.

"What?"

"I asked why you're going on so long. It's simple if you get to the point. I drew the sword without knowing my place, and you're asking whether I can handle it. Isn't that what you're saying right now?"

His tone was rude as hell, but he wasn't wrong. Merlin nodded reluctantly. Najin let out a short sigh and met her gaze.

"You're right, honored Constellation. I have nothing. It's true I'm nothing special, and if someone tries to off me, they'll probably manage it. You think I don't know that?"

He needed no one to tell him. Najin knew that better than anyone. Just how much hell had he gone through to reach the surface?

He had nearly died countless times. Without Ivan's sacrifice, he would undoubtedly already be a corpse lying somewhere in the underground city.

The powerful would come after him?

Countless beings would try to put him in the ground?

Najin scoffed at Merlin's warning. Did she think he didn't know that much? When he had reached for the sword, he had already as good as resolved to stake his life on it.

"I didn't draw the sword without being prepared for that."

Najin had steeled himself from the moment he crossed the line.

For someone who had nothing, the only thing he could possess was his longing for the stars. Rather than lose his nerve and give up already, he would sooner be crushed to death.

Najin glanced at Merlin.

He was beginning to get a sense of how the Constellation before him thought and reacted. Cowering and backing down would get him nowhere. Instead, he decided to stand proud.

"King Arthur wasn't great from the very beginning, either, was he? He was called a great hero because he rose from the bottom with no foundation to stand on."

Najin had read that storybook over and over. He had reread Arthur's meeting with Merlin, and the scenes in which she guided him, countless times. That was why there might have been a little disappointment mixed into his words now.

The Merlin in the story he had read would never have said such things.

She was the one who had seen potential in someone with nothing and made a nobody into a great king.

"For you, the one who guided that King Arthur... isn't it a little unfair to talk like this?"

"Are you trying to provoke me?"

"I'm telling you the truth."

Merlin gave a disbelieving laugh.

Had he realized this was a test? It didn't seem so.

"Anyone can say that."

Still, this wasn't bad. Rather than cowering, he had the spirit to answer her boldly. Feeling a little interest in the boy before her, Merlin snapped her fingers.

SNAP.

The haze that had shimmered in the wake of her steps was sucked into Najin's eyes in an instant. Anything was easy to say. But it was always actions, not words, that proved one's worth.

"If you can say the same thing after seeing this..."

Merlin stopped walking.

"Then I'll acknowledge you."

The haze clouding Najin's eyes showed him the path he would have to walk and the battlefields he would have to reach. The trials he would inevitably face now that he had drawn Excalibur.

The same things she had shown Arthur hundreds of years ago.

If he could still say the same thing after seeing them, she would reassess him. With that thought, Merlin watched Najin go rigid.

3.

Countless scenes passed before Najin's eyes.

Though he was only watching, he felt as if he were standing there himself. His body trembled. The overpowering stench made the bridge of his nose sting, and the scorching heat hurt as though his skin were burning.

A battlefield of sinister, wicked beings. A dark domain where countless demons and those bound by contracts to them ran rampant. There, he saw powerful warriors being devoured alive by demons.

The moment Najin met the demons' eyes, he had to surrender his own flesh to them.

He was torn apart and devoured, ruined, and denied rest even in death, becoming their familiar. Before he could even shudder at that horrific end, his vision lurched.

A battlefield where stars were born and stars fell. A stage on which the stars could intervene in earnest. There, he saw the stars already established in the heavens jealously guarding their turf. He saw countless heroes toyed with until their journeys came to an end.

Najin saw fallen Constellations trample those who sought to become stars, destroy those who dreamed of the stars, and steal the stars they possessed. They greedily swelled their own size. The moment they caught sight of him, something immense crushed Najin into fragments. It felt as though the very foundation of his existence had been denied.

And beyond all those countless scenes, Najin saw one final place.

A land of death beyond the horizon. A place inhabited by beings so vast that the previous ones could not compare. This time, Najin was not standing there. He was merely watching from very far away.

Something rippled beyond the horizon.

It looked like a mountain range rolling in waves, but Najin soon realized what it was. A dragon. A dragon so enormous he could not tell where it ended. He had not even met its gaze, yet the moment he became aware of its existence, his soul crumbled into tiny fragments.

Camlann, the land of the abyss.

The moment he faced even a fragment of it, Najin's soul collapsed. As the process repeated again and again, the light faded from his eyes, which had continued shining even through the haze.

"..."

Watching him, Merlin sighed.

This was a lost cause.

He had broken. Of course a brat like him couldn't have the mental strength to withstand such scenes. Even the most formidable warriors would spend months bedridden after seeing them. Some would be broken entirely.

Arthur had stood up immediately after seeing those scenes and snapped at Merlin that he had been prepared for them, but...

'That was only possible because he was Arthur.'

Who could possibly hope to be like him?

The boy's fearless, confident words had raised her hopes a little, but had they been nothing more than talk after all? Disappointed, Merlin reached toward his forehead.

She intended to dispel the haze, erase his memories, and reclaim the holy sword. If he broke at this mere glimpse, he had no potential. Better to end things here than leave him to become a plaything for fallen beings.

Just as Merlin's finger was about to touch Najin's forehead—

"I... know."

She heard a voice.

A hand suddenly shot out and clamped hard around Merlin's wrist. Her eyes widened as she looked at Najin, who was holding her.

His clouded eyes were coming into focus. The haze was disappearing from them.

Najin had escaped the visions Merlin showed him through his own strength. Revealed as the haze vanished, his eyes were still shining.

'... How?'

Before Merlin even had time to feel surprise, Najin opened his mouth.

"I know. I know I'm nothing special. I know I'm neither noble nor exalted like King Arthur. Of course I wouldn't impress you."

Najin spoke between gasping breaths. His breathing was ragged, his wide eyes bloodshot.

"When I said Arthur was just a lucky man born in the right era, I didn't mean it. I don't think that. I know King Arthur was greater than anyone... the brightest being of all, who set his stars at the highest point in the night sky."

The great hero who had lifted humanity out of its dark age, swept away countless demons, brought down every false Constellation, and finally stopped time in Camlann.

"That's why..."

Because he shone so brightly.

"I have to reach as high as King Arthur—no, higher than King Arthur."

That was what made him a worthy goal. Not a lucky man favored by his era, but a great hero who had led it: that was why he was worth challenging. That was what Najin was saying.

"Whatever stands in my way, I'll go. I have to set my own star at the highest point."

He had promised a knight who had never lost his pride. He had sworn it in a land where no stars could be seen.

"So I can't give this back to you."

Najin gripped Excalibur tightly. The sword was still shining.

"..."

Merlin watched him in silence.

Her blue eyes were looking at Najin, yet not at Najin alone. In him, she saw a past from very long ago.

「Let anything stand in my way.」

「I will become the hero who leads this age.」

「I'll set my star at the highest point and become a guidepost for those who follow me. For that, I need a symbol. A symbol like this sword.」

Her first meeting with Arthur.

Merlin remembered how he had refused to yield even to the future she showed him.

「So I can't return this.」

「From now on, this sword must become a symbol alongside me.」

「A symbol of victory, glory, and hope.」

Remembering Arthur as he proclaimed those words, Merlin let out a long, very long sigh. With her head bowed and her hair spilling forward, Najin could not see her face, but a smile had formed on her lips.

"Those words."

Merlin erased her smile and lifted her head. For the first time, she took a step back. No longer pressing the boy, she spoke.

"What you said about Arthur being a lucky man favored by his era."

"Like I said, I didn't mean..."

"You'll have to prove it, you cheeky little brat."

Najin blinked. Merlin's attitude had changed from moments before. She shrugged and brushed her hair back.

"Honestly, there's nothing about you I like, but your mental strength and spirit deserve some recognition."

He was far from earning a passing grade.

Still, she had seen potential. And because she had seen it, Merlin deliberated. The choice she now had to make was a momentous one—one that might require her to stake her own stars.

Her deliberation was long, and yet short.

Because, in the end, what came to mind at the moment of decision was the dying wish left by Arthur, the king she had served.

「If a new master of this sword appears someday...」

「I want you to guide them.」

「Don't put your trust in whatever choice my lingering will makes. Do as you please. See them with your own eyes and judge for yourself. Just as you did with me.」

And then, Arthur had added with a smile:

「If you see a little light...」

「If you see even the faintest potential...」

「It's your task to bring it into bloom.」

「That is why you are the Staff of Selection.」

She had seen potential. She had seen light, too.

Remembering the past, Merlin looked at the present.

'I don't like him, but...'

She could not deny his potential.

As Merlin looked into the boy's still-shining eyes, a smile spread across her lips. A smile tinged with interest—or anticipation.

"Listen carefully, brat."

Merlin extended a hand toward Najin.

"You'll have to take responsibility for your words and prove them. You'll have to prove with your life whether Arthur was merely a lucky man favored by his era."

Merlin grinned.

"Fail to prove it, and you'll die by my hand. I'll postpone your divine punishment until then. If you give up or run away along the way, I'll drive a lightning bolt straight into your skull, so you'd better not think about backing out."

Her outstretched hand stopped in front of Najin.

Not at his forehead or his collar, but at just the right height for a handshake. Najin narrowed his eyes at the hand before him.

What was he supposed to do with that? Seeing that look on his face, Merlin frowned and growled.

"Aren't you going to take it? Do you want to die?"

Reluctantly, Najin took Merlin's hand.

The moment their hands clasped, his vision lurched. It was the same sensation he had felt when he was dragged here, but slightly different this time.

Through his wavering vision, Najin saw a constellation being inscribed on the back of the hand clasped in Merlin's.

A constellation of eleven stars. The constellation of the Staff of Selection.