The sudden pressure of the unknown figure clad in knightly armor, who had appeared out of nowhere in Avalon, tore Cercius from his meditation like a bucket of cold water poured over him in his sleep.
His body tensed as though he were about to face an incomprehensible monster intent on devouring him whole.
Morgana flinched in surprise, her eyes widening as the grapes slipped from her hand. Yet she quickly recognized the source of the aura and merely frowned in slight annoyance.
Fortunately, the pressure did not last long and disappeared after only a few seconds. Still, it had been so overwhelming and terrifying that it felt as though it had persisted for several minutes.
"That idiot! What does he think he's doing?!" Morgana muttered angrily and waved her hand.
In the next moment, a portal opened in the training hall, and a tall figure in magnificent knightly armor stepped through.
"What was that supposed to be, damn it?!" Morgana snapped furiously at the figure. "How could you just release your aura like that?! Think of the inhabitants of Avalon!"
The man who emerged from the portal rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, his expression blank. "Sorry, but it was the quickest way. I didn't feel like searching the whole estate for you."
"Nonsense! The estate isn't even that large! And you know perfectly well we're in training—of course we're in the training hall!" Morgana retorted irritably.
"As I said, sorry," he replied halfheartedly. His gaze fell upon Cercius, who stood frozen in shock at the sight of the two bickering. He was clearly still shaken by the immense pressure and could not believe it had come from this armored man.
The knight raised an intrigued eyebrow as he turned toward Cercius.
"So, this is the hero you've chosen — the one meant to face the trials of the Lord," he noted, studying Cercius from head to toe.
He was silent for a moment before nodding approvingly. "Adequate. His magical power isn't bad, and his physique is impressive."
"Arthur, come with me so we can talk — and leave the boy alone. He hasn't finished his training yet," Morgana demanded irritably, her hands on her hips.
Arthur met her gaze, tilting his head slightly.
Arthur, the King of Knights. One of the four heroes personally created by Asher. A constellation of Fable Rank and the second teacher chosen to instruct Cercius. This was the figure who had appeared so bluntly in Avalon — the one appointed to train the boy.
After a brief moment, Arthur followed Morgana out of the training hall so they could speak privately in the corridor, while Cercius resumed his training.
"So, why did you want to talk to me? We should be starting the training right away," Arthur asked, sounding puzzled.
"There's something I need to tell you… it's about the boy," Morgana began. "He's special. Just by awakening, he already reached D+ rank — but what's even crazier are his abilities and affinities!"
"Hm? D+ rank is certainly impressive, but you didn't need to drag me out here just to tell me that."
"That may be true, but that's not all," Morgana replied. "He doesn't only have remarkable stats and skills — his affinity for mana is extraordinary. Through his awakening with the core of a sacred boar, he gained a special affinity with the earth element. But as it turned out, he also naturally possesses an affinity with the wind element!"
After a short pause, she continued. "It's not just his affinities. His mana and his control over it are exceptional… he could easily become a powerful mage capable of wielding both earth and wind magic. But when I suggested it, he said he wanted to become a 'proud warrior' who fights for peace… haah~"
At the end, Morgana let out a long, helpless sigh, clearly dissatisfied as she remembered Cercius's refusal to become a mage. She seemed somewhat frustrated that she couldn't teach such a talented student the art of magic.
But she quickly pushed aside her frustration when a new idea struck her, which she immediately shared with Arthur.
"That, however, gave me an idea…" she began. "If he also shows talent in swordsmanship, it might be possible for him to walk the path of a magical swordsman!"
Arthur fell silent, lost in thought for a moment as he considered her words.
"I see. So that's why you called me here. Very well — then I'll teach him swordsmanship as planned, and you'll teach him magic. But if he falls behind, I won't hesitate to end his sword training and have him focus entirely on becoming a mage," Arthur stated plainly.
"There's no reason to waste time and effort on something that doesn't work," he added coldly.
Morgana nodded in agreement, sharing his view.
Thus began Cercius's official sword training, after Morgana had properly introduced him to Arthur.
Arthur's training was entirely different from before — much, much harsher.
Every morning at dawn, Cercius began his day with a two-hour marathon around the island. After that, from morning until evening, came one-on-one duels with Arthur, and finally, in the evening, magic lessons with Morgana.
Most of the time, Arthur beat him black and blue — but he also corrected his form, gave him precise advice, and taught him what to improve or avoid entirely.
During sword training, Cercius always used a real sword to grow accustomed to the weight and feel of wielding one, while Arthur used only a wooden sword.
Yet despite using mere wood, Arthur was no less deadly. The danger was real — after all, no amateur with a sword could ever hope to wound a constellation, much less one who was both a sword master and wholly specialized in swordsmanship.
One day, during training—
"Haah Haah Haah~" Cercius gasped heavily, struggling to keep his sword upright.
Despite his exhaustion, he raised his weapon again, tightened his grip, and charged. He swung down with all his might.
Arthur watched his movements impassively, lifting his wooden sword in one smooth motion. He observed almost in slow motion as the iron blade approached him.
With a casual swing — one that somehow carried far greater power than it appeared to — Arthur countered the strike, disarming Cercius and sending him sprawling backward.
Overwhelmed by the effortless counter, Cercius crashed to the ground once again.
"Argh! Haah" His breathing grew heavier; his body trembled with fatigue. Every bone and muscle ached, his hands quivered uncontrollably, and even holding his sword became difficult.
At times, even breathing felt painful during this training — his lungs burned as though they were on fire.
"Th-this… is too hard… I can't go on…!" Cercius murmured hoarsely. "If this keeps up, I'll never get stronger!"
He clenched his teeth, reaching again for his sword, while Arthur looked on.
Arthur's expression remained indifferent, betraying little emotion. He was a reserved man, focused solely on training and speaking only when necessary. But when it came to evaluation, he did not hold back.
When Cercius, through sheer determination, managed to lift his sword once more and launch another attack, Arthur countered again with ease, knocking him flat.
It went on like that — and it would continue for quite some time.
Arthur noticed that Cercius was nearly out of strength and deeply frustrated by his own weakness. But what Cercius failed to realize was how much he had already grown over the past weeks.
After his awakening, Cercius was no longer an ordinary human. Thanks to Morgana's training, he could now control mana proficiently — using it to enhance himself, mend minor wounds, and recover from exhaustion.
He was constantly fighting in a draining state, channeling mana through his entire body while simultaneously dueling Arthur — essentially focusing on two things at once.
And yet, he still kept going.
When Arthur saw the boy blaming himself for his weakness and feeling ashamed for falling so easily, he decided to teach him something important.
Resting his wooden sword casually on his shoulder, he looked down at Cercius.
"Boy," he began, his tone solemn, "true glory doesn't lie in never falling — it lies in rising every single time you do. That means if you can keep standing back up, you'll keep getting stronger."
"Don't push yourself too hard. Becoming stronger takes time. Besides, you're already growing at an alarming rate! Time doesn't matter… as long as you keep striving and never give up, you will become stronger."
After his brief lecture, Arthur turned away and left the training ground, allowing Cercius some time to rest.
He gave him a moment to recover, to let his mana circulate calmly throughout his body — a good method to rest, gather strength, combat exhaustion, and ease pain.
After a while, the training continued — and months passed. In fact, two full years went by since Cercius had begun his sword training.
Throughout that time, he trained tirelessly under both Arthur and Morgana, mastering swordsmanship and magic with remarkable speed and talent.
After those two years — shortly after Cercius turned seventeen — the training was, for now, complete. It was time to face the second trial of God.
In the training hall within Morgana's estate, Cercius, Morgana, and Arthur gathered.
In those two years, Cercius had matured greatly. He had grown a bit taller, now standing at 1.87 meters. His muscles hadn't changed much — his awakened body had already reached its peak form, becoming more compact and adaptive.
He now wore a gray adventurer's outfit with light plate armor, bracers and greaves, a sword at his side, and a round shield on his back.
During his sword training, Cercius had realized that he wasn't limited to using both hands for his sword — he preferred to use a shield, deciding to walk his own knightly path, different from that of his master.
Arthur, being the King of Knights, of course knew how to wield a shield and had taught him that as well as the art of swordsmanship.
"Well then, it seems you're ready," Morgana said with a smile as she looked at Cercius, prepared for departure.
Arthur, as always, wore his stoic expression, silently observing him.
Seeing this, Morgana sighed, nudged him with her shoulder, and gave him a mischievous grin, as if teasing him.
"Come on, say a few encouraging — maybe even inspiring — words to your student!" she demanded, almost giggling.
Arthur frowned at the request but didn't refuse. He seemed to think seriously for a moment about what to say, then finally decided.
"Make sure you don't die — and don't disgrace the honor of a knight," Arthur declared bluntly.
His statement, though proud in tone, sounded halfhearted, causing Morgana to roll her eyes. But she knew better than to expect anything more and let it go.
Cercius only gave a soft chuckle. He knew his master well and took no offense. After all, he was used to Arthur's dry manner and understood that this was simply his way of showing care.
"Anyway, we've already told you everything we know about the next trial," Morgana said more seriously. "Still, be careful, and don't get overconfident. You've grown a lot in such a short time, but there are still many dangers out there you're not ready for!"
Cercius nodded with a calm smile, agreeing with his teacher. He was never arrogant about his strength and had no intention of rushing recklessly into anything.
Once again, the portal that would carry the chosen one to his trial appeared — and its pull took hold of Cercius. This time, however, he resisted a little, not wanting to escape the trial, but to test his own progress.
Arthur and Morgana, now left behind, stood silently in the hall, gazing at the spot where Cercius had been moments ago before being drawn into the portal.
He had managed to resist for barely five seconds before being overpowered and swallowed by the light.
"Do you think he'll make it?" Morgana asked after a brief silence.
Arthur did not answer right away. Though his expression didn't change, it was clear he was thinking deeply — calculating in his mind the boy's chances of success.
"It should be possible," he finally said. "It'll be hard for him, but he's grown far more than we expected — and he's grasped a power we never thought he could."
"Hm~ I see. I'd say his chances of success are about fifty percent," Morgana remarked thoughtfully.
Arthur, however, shook his head. "No, it's probably over sixty. We can't know what he's capable of when pushed into a corner."
As he said this, Arthur recalled a certain moment from Cercius's training — one that made his brow furrow briefly. But he quickly brushed it aside and left the training hall to let off some steam.