Britain, southern part of the Kingdom of Camelot — the national cathedral graveyard.
Artoria stood bewildered, staring at the sword set into the central stone slab surrounded by the monuments marking the graves of countless mighty knights who had died before — the sword embedded in the earth at the very heart of that memorial.
The hilt was gold, the straight blade a bright silver, an unmistakable sign that this was no ordinary weapon. The stone it was set into was embedded in the ground as if fused with the earth itself.
Standing amid the crowd was the fourteen-year-old "boy," dressed in a plain gray-white linen garment. His golden hair and blue eyes made for a refined, delicate appearance that, beside the tall knights around him, did not stand out at all — and no one paid him much mind. At this moment everyone's attention was focused on the sword driven into the stone.
Two days earlier the king of Camelot, Uther Pendragon, had died, shocking the entire realm.
What followed was the method of choosing a new king proclaimed by the "Sage" Merlin — and the way he proposed to select the next ruler astonished the whole country. Of course, rumors had long circulated that the late king had no intention of letting his daughter, the prodigious princess Morgan le Fay, inherit the throne; but when that notion was confirmed, many were still taken aback.
Even more stirring than the rumor was Merlin's method for choosing a king. On that day, in front of a gathered assembly of lords, nobles and knights, the "Sage" magically drove a sword into a stone. He declared that whoever could pull that sword from the stone would be recognized by Britain and would thus be qualified "to become king."
Merlin placed that "Sword in the Stone" in the national cathedral graveyard — at the very heartland between Camelot and the Windmill City.
In the two days since then, countless knights set out to try. In this age, genuine members of the knightly class were usually those personally tested and certified by Subatai, Duke of the Windmill City — men who strictly observed the Knightly Code. But the knightly spirit and the desire to be king were not mutually exclusive.
If one could become king, to defend the realm with knightly honor would be all the more powerful.
Yet no matter how mighty the warrior, every one of them "failed" before this sword. No matter how strong, no one could budge the blade that Merlin had linked by magic to the earth.
Still, people kept coming.
Hopefuls who thought, "If others can't do it, maybe I can," were endless in number.
—But Artoria was different from them.
She watched the spectacle with a dazed, half-present mind.
"Isn't the king already decided to be Princess Morgan le Fay, who led the army and slew Vortigern together with Master Sub—Subatai the Duke?" Artoria murmured in confusion. "Why do we hold another choice?"
Confused and bewildered, the girl disguised as a boy whispered quietly...
She soon received an exasperated reply. "What do you mean 'already decided'? What 'slew Vortigern'?"
"'The vile' Vortigern is still up north, watching and waiting — our new king must go and punish him!"
"Princess Morgan didn't support this selection, nor did she oppose it... what are you thinking?"
"Are you half asleep? Have you overworked yourself into madness?"
The tall boy Kay looked at his "adopted little sister" — who had been groggy since she woke that morning — with helplessness, his usual sharp tongue unchanged.
So what was going on? Had Vortigern been slain, had Morgan le Fay become queen, had Artoria become a knight, and had Subatai the teacher actually guided her — were these all illusions? Were they only dreams?
But why had they felt so real?
Artoria couldn't make sense of it.
"Look — even King Perinor failed to draw the sword!"
"That valiant man couldn't pull it; looks like Merlin was right: drawing the sword has nothing to do with physical strength!"
"..."
Another towering knight had just failed, drawing attention from the crowd.
Artoria snapped back to herself and, following the sound, saw the sullen thirty-something figure who had just tried and failed — King Perinor, Duke Perinor, one of the lords who had pledged allegiance to Camelot and a knight widely recognized as, next to Subatai, the realm's strongest. He was the legendary man who had withstood ten rounds under Subatai's blade without losing, reputed to possess the strength to cleave a mountain with a single stroke.
—In later legends, even Arthur's skills were no match for him; the sword Arthur later pulled from the stone is said to have broken in the duel against Perinor due to trickery, giving rise to the replacement "Sword from the Lake."
Perinor's failure was naturally shocking to those nearby. Even Kay at Artoria's side briefly forgot to mock his adopted sister's odd behavior.
"So, Artoria — won't you give it a try?" Kay suddenly noticed the blue focus in Artoria's eyes and said, jokingly, "You've worked so hard since you were little, maybe you have the makings of a 'king'!"
Kay meant it as a joke. He did not know Artoria's true identity and could not know the potential she carried. In his mind his adopted sister was diligent — painfully so — and talented, but not on the level of the realm's true champions.
Still, words can spark a thought. Kay's comment reminded Artoria of the lessons she had learned in her earlier dream — the courses to become a king.
Maybe... could she?
"Want to try, Artoria?"
Suddenly a voice not from Kay or anyone nearby whispered in the girl's ear.
That voice...
"Master Merlin?" Artoria answered silently.
"It is I," the dreamlike voice of the Sage murmured — fragmented and unreal yet clear.
"Master, do you know what's happening?" she asked.
Merlin did not answer directly. He only said: "I know. But that's not important, Artoria."
"I only ask you — do you want to be 'king'?"
Artoria frowned. Merlin's deliberate change of topic annoyed her. She glanced back at the empty stone bearing the sword and, though displeased, she began to consider the question.
Was she going to become the king?
"You can save Camelot — you can save Britain," Merlin said. "You should feel the power within you."
Of course she felt it. Whether in waking life or in dreaming instruction — even in the two years that seemed to vanish from her memory — she had not been one to undervalue herself.
"You are the incarnation of Britain's Red Dragon, a scion of the Pendragon line. You ought to do as is required... but you must think carefully. Once you take up that sword, you will no longer be human. All men will despise you, and you will ultimately meet a tragic death."
Would that happen?
But if that was her duty, if that was the path she was meant to walk...
"You and Master Subatai — surely that is why you taught me, right?"
Those two vanished years — the ones only she remembered — must have had a reason. With nothing further to ask, the girl made her decision in an instant.
She had always trained to become a king.
Now it was time.
Even if the ending was not good — if she acted from her honest heart, knowingly doing what could not be done — that was the true knightly spirit.
"I—"
"I'll try."
Her clear voice split the crowd like a bell. People fell silent.
Artoria's gaze flicked to the coming figure. It was...
"Master Subatai—"
The leader of the knights, the Duke who had felled the dragon — Subatai Equinus.
If it was him... surely she could do it!
As the tall youth strode forward, the crowd stirred into a flurry. Artoria saw him nod and smile faintly toward her.
...
[After the time rewind]
[The world changed, but some things were preserved.]
[For example, the Infinite Wulian Armory — the Wulian Armory of martial data condensed and unified in your mind.]
[For example, your title "Duke of the Wyrm" (Duke who subdued the dragon).]
[And Artoria Pendragon's cognition.]
[Your time rewind was not truly absolute magic and could not thoroughly reverse the river of time. Even with the aid of the Holy Spear — the star anchor — extremely resilient things, like reefs in a river, would remain as the current flowed back.]
[You could only rewind the lands of the three British islands.]
[But that did not matter.]
[What follows unfolds like normal "history."]
[The Sword-Drawn Selection —]
[You of course personally attend and witness the birth of the "Knight King."]
[And before that, you attempt to draw the sword.]
Lucan reached out and grasped the sword. The blade did not budge an inch.
All went silent; everyone stared at one another. Then Lucan's body was suffused with the shimmering glow of continuous magic.
"Everyone, step back!"
King Perinor, who had not yet left, changed color — he had fought Lucan before and knew the terror of Lucan's augmentation magics. But it was already almost too late.
A creaking, cracking sound rang out.
Not from the sword in Lucan's hand, nor from the stone that held it.
It came from around them.
From the earth itself!
With a tremendous roar the ground trembled.
"Duke Subatai! — Are you trying to drag the very earth up with you!?"
[With the augmentations applied, comparable to the power of a dragonkind,]
[To pull up the earth would be nothing.]
...
That was proof of the strongest knight.
And it was the shock retained in the eyes of the witnessing "king."
—From the Canticle of the Eternal King.
...
[But you only tried briefly and immediately let go.]
"Merlin that man... he really went and linked this sword to Britain's ley lines?" Lucan muttered under his breath.
He was speechless with Merlin's audacity. Apart from Lucan himself — who could apply brute force augmented by the highest levels of his Infinite Wulian martial art — probably only Vortigern, Artoria, and Morgan, the three who held "island authority," could pull it up.