Artoria felt as if she were having a dream.
In the dream, she became a King under the alias of Arthur, bearing the destiny of saving all of Britain from the evil White Dragon.
The her in the dream possessed noble character, formidable strength, and a heart full of compassion. She was a rising star upon whom the entire island placed high hopes, and the Perfect King spoken of by the people.
While shouting King Arthur, the people also called her the 'Knight King'.
And she had been having this kind of dream continuously for a month.
At first, she was just surprised as to why she kept having the same dream, feeling unfamiliar with and curious about that version of herself in the dream.
Gradually, she realized that the scenarios in the dream seemed extremely similar to the future her teacher Merlin had told her about.
But, how could this be possible?
Although she was Merlin's disciple, Artoria certainly did not possess the ability to foresee the future like Merlin did.
Harboring this doubt, the young girl ultimately told her teacher, the Great Magus Merlin, about the dream.
But Merlin gave an affirmative answer.
"Yes, that is your future, Lily."
As if he had been waiting for a long time, the white incubus answered Artoria's question with a grin.
And amidst the young girl's yearning, he told her that if she truly wanted to become such a perfect King who could make all knights submit, then she must devote even more time and energy to studying diligently than before.
Without a doubt, the young girl chose to believe Merlin's words.
At this time, being only 11 years old, she spent most of her day being instilled with the teachings of a King by Merlin.
Even her sleep time was less than three hours.
But even so, to her current self, as long as she could become the Perfect King like in her dream, any amount of hardship was acceptable.
Therefore, under Merlin's supervision, the young girl abandoned all rest and other free time, focusing her mind entirely on training and honing herself.
Her daily life revolved around three activities: eating, practicing swordplay, and studying, looping over and over again. Even when, on a certain day at the age of 12, she suddenly asked Merlin to practice her swordplay by the river behind the territory, she was refused by him.
And so, time flew by.
The life of the young girl named Artoria began to proceed just like her dream.
On her 15th birthday, alongside her master Merlin and adopted brother Kay, she bid farewell to Sir Ector and chose to go out for tempering, gradually revealing her fame and strength during her travels.
Whether in life-and-death struggles with magical beasts or battles against the Vile King's soldiers, she displayed the formidable strength and strategic awareness expected of a King.
Furthermore, the noble character she displayed was recognized by the people. From knights and nobles down to commoners, everyone was won over by this knight named Arthur.
In fact, because the current Artoria was so dazzling, even the children of the Witch Morgan, who should have been her enemies, were moved by her and came one after another to pledge their allegiance.
Thus, Artoria accepted Merlin's suggestion. With the principle of absolute equality at the Round Table, she established the Knights of the Round Table, inducting the strongest knights led by the Knight of the Sun, Gawain.
Everything went exactly as Merlin had prophesied; she was getting closer and closer to that ideal known as the Perfect King.
But for some reason, as time passed, Artoria always felt as if something was missing from her life—perhaps a thing, or perhaps a person.
This feeling was very strange. It was as if there were an invisible person by her side. Although she couldn't see him, she could detect his existence through subtle clues.
For example, every time Artoria approached a river, she would have this strange, inexplicable desire to converse with the river water. Or, during a time when she and Kay were subjugating a mountain giant, she kept feeling that the person standing beside her, coordinating with her, should have been someone else.
The most obvious clue was that the Third Seat of the Round Table had always remained vacant.
Logically, Artoria knew very well that this seat should have belonged to Gawain, yet she always subconsciously kept it open, as if her subconscious wanted to reserve this seat for someone extremely important to her.
And right at this moment, Merlin brought her some highly important information.
Go to the royal cemetery, draw the Sword of Selection, and become the Perfect King she had yearned to be countless times.
Without a doubt, this was the thing Artoria yearned for and anticipated the most.
Just as Merlin said, only by drawing the Sword of Selection could her identity as the Child of the Red Dragon be proclaimed, thereby gaining the recognition of the still-wavering nobles.
When that time came, she would truly become the King Arthur supported by the general trend of the world.
But when Artoria truly stood before that stone with the Sword of Selection thrust into it...
She hesitated.
In a daze, a voice in her heart seemed to be telling her not to draw the sword. If she drew the sword, that person would completely disappear from her world.
Involuntarily, Artoria felt a trace of confusion.
Since the day she swore to become the Perfect King under Merlin's witness, Artoria had never again experienced the word 'confusion'.
As King Arthur, the Red Dragon of Britain, and the leader of the Round Table, why am I feeling confused at this moment?
Confused even because of an illusion, because of a person who doesn't exist at all?
Is this right?
And right at this moment, Merlin's voice rang out opportunely.
"Lily, what's wrong? Why haven't you drawn the sword yet?"
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Merlin's figure appeared beside Artoria following a gust of petals. Before them lay a black stone, into which was thrust the Sword of Selection that Merlin had personally placed.
"Merlin..."
The young girl looked at the incubus appearing beside her, hesitation in her eyes.
"I feel like... I cannot draw this sword..."
"Cannot draw this sword?"
Hearing Artoria's words, Merlin was momentarily stunned. He instinctively thought Artoria was feeling timid after seeing so many knights fail to draw the sword earlier, so he comforted her.
"It is fine, Lily. This sword was prepared for you in the first place. Believe in my prophecy; in all of Britain, only you can draw the Sword of Selection."
"But..."
The young girl hesitated over whether she should tell Merlin the doubts in her heart. But at this moment, that voice in her heart shouted again, telling her not to trust Merlin.
Not trust? Merlin?
Why?
Just as the confusion and bewilderment in the young girl's heart became increasingly knotted, Merlin suddenly spoke again. Only for some reason, his tone lacked its usual gentleness this time, instead carrying a hint of urging.
"Do not hesitate any longer, Lily. With so many people watching, if you delay drawing the sword, it will negatively impact your royal momentum."
"Furthermore, if you do not draw the Sword of Selection, then you will be unable to claim the throne. If so, wouldn't all your efforts have been in vain, Lily?"
Hearing this, Artoria's movements instantly froze. As if realizing something, she instinctively looked up at Merlin.
Feeling the latter's completely undisguised, direct gaze, Merlin finally realized with hindsight that his words just now had been a bit too anxious. He hurriedly flashed a smile at the young girl.
"I apologize, Lily. It seems I lost my composure."
"Mhm. It is fine, I know."
Abruptly, the young girl lowered her head again. Then, under Merlin's joyous gaze, she grasped the Sword of Selection.
The next moment, under his expectant gaze, the Sword in the Stone was instantly drawn.
But before Merlin could step forward with a smile, Artoria suddenly swung the longsword, slashing towards Merlin's eyes.
Caught completely off guard, a smear of purple blood spread out, accompanied by a faint floral scent.