Arthur…
That was his name.
His parents had named him Arthur because they had once dreamed he would become the greatest knight in the kingdom, a strong and honorable man who would bring pride to his family.
In the end, he had saved nothing. His village was ravaged by the Sky Pirates, the same scourge that currently wrecked havoc across the kingdoms. They were the most notorious bandits, so vicious and elusive that even the royal knights struggled to catch them.
His parents, along with every other adult in the village, had stood proudly on the front lines to protect their home, only to be ruthlessly slain by the pirates' overwhelming force.
"Arthur… Please protect Olivia."
Those were his parents' last words, a desperate plea for him to live and escape.
His younger sister, Olivia, clutched the ragged fabric of his tunic from behind, her small body trembling against his back.
He looked up at the sky, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes as the Sky Pirates' massive airship continued its merciless assault.
Laser beams scorched the air, obliterating villager's homes and setting the world ablaze.
Dozens of pirates rappelled down to the ground, their brutal laughter mixing with the screams of the dying as they slaughtered everyone in their path.
However, despite his own terror and the utter misery of their situation, Arthur firmly pushed Olivia behind him, shielding her with his own body. "Sister, you have to escape. Please, don't let our parents' sacrifice be for nothing. I will distract them."
"Brother, not you too…" Olivia's voice was a choked sob, her eyes wide with the horror of losing him as well.
"Please, sister, I am begging you…" He turned his head to look at her, his eyes swimming with tears and raw, desperate pleading.
He could not, would not, let his sister be harmed or, worse, captured by these pirates.
If he had to sacrifice himself in the process, then so be it.
Olivia met his gaze, and a flicker of the same fierce determination he felt ignited in her own eyes. "I will find the knights, brother. I will bring help. You have to be strong. You have to survive."
With a final, agonizing look, she turned and fled, her footsteps pounding a frantic rhythm as she escaped through the splintered back door of their wooden house.
Arthur turned to face the front, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He knew this was likely a fool's errand.
Their village was devastatingly poor; they couldn't afford firearms or even a single decent steel sword.
The weapon he held now was a wooden practice sword, one he had carved himself over many months for his training, a tangible piece of his dream to become a knight.
The front door of their house exploded inward, splintered into pieces by a heavy pirate's boot.
The invaders stood there, sneering at him.
Their leader, a hulking man with a scarred face, let out a cruel, mocking laugh. "What's this? It's just a fucking brat."
One of the other pirates, a wiry man with a greedy glint in his eye, looked Arthur up and down. "Boss, look at him. He's a handsome one. Think of the price he'd fetch. I've heard many noblewomen pay a fortune for pretty young slaves to warm their beds, especially ones with fight left in them."
The pirate captain chuckled darkly, a sound that promised nothing but pain. "I heard the Count's own daughter has a particular taste for breaking in spirited young men like him… Well, boys? What are you waiting for? Grab him!"
They unsheathed their real swords, the sharp, metallic rings a death knell in the small space.
They fanned out, forming a tight circle around the boy who stood against them with nothing but a crude, wooden blade.
Arthur did not retreat.
He could not.
His arms trembled under the weight of his fear.
His knees felt weak, threatening to buckle.
But his eyes, those burning blue eyes, remained sharp and unyielding.
For Olivia.
For his parents.
For the smoldering ruins of the village that had been his entire world.
"Come on, then, you wretches," Arthur whispered, his voice cracking with strain but his resolve steady. "Even if I fall here today, I swear I will drag some of you down to hell with me."
The pirates exchanged a series of amused, predatory looks, their grins widening at his defiance.
"Look at this little knight wannabe," one sneered.
Another laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Let's break his legs first! The Countess enjoys them more when they're helpless lambs; defiant yet broken!"
Metal flashed in the dim light of the crumbling house.
And Arthur moved.
A wooden sword was nothing against honed steel, but the boy's spirit was a weapon sharp enough to carve fate itself.
He deflected the first pirate's swing with pure, desperate instinct, the hard wood clacking against the blade.
Using the man's own momentum, Arthur twisted inside his guard and drove a sharp elbow straight into his jaw with a sickening crack.
The pirate crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he hit the ground.
"What the—?!"
"He just downed Jerek! With a fucking stick?!" another bandit yelled, his voice a mix of shock and rage.
Arthur didn't stop. He couldn't afford to.
He didn't think about technique or survival; he simply fought, his body moving on a primal, desperate fuel of pure adrenaline and the need to protect his sister's retreat.
Another pirate lunged at him, steel glinting.
Arthur dropped low, dodging under the sweeping blade, and brought his wooden sword hard across the man's throat. It wasn't a killing blow, but it was a brutal, stunning impact that crushed the pirate's windpipe and made him gag, his eyes bulging.
Before he could recover, Arthur drove his knee deep into the man's gut, forcing the air from his lungs in a pained whoosh.
The pirate folded over and collapsed, retching onto the dirt floor.
Two down.
But the circle of leering, murderous bandits remained unbroken, their initial amusement now curdling into vicious intent.
"Enough of this shit," the captain snarled, his patience evaporating.
The man stepped forward, his sheer size seeming to fill the room.
He was a mountain of muscle and menace, a jagged, ugly scar tearing down his left cheek.
The sword in his hand wasn't just metal; it hummed with a malevolent energy, the air around it crackling faintly with raw, violet mana.
This was no ordinary cutthroat.
This was a seasoned killer.
A blooded veteran.
A true monster.
Arthur felt that cold, sharp fear punch through his chest.
Yet, he still raised the shattered remains of his wooden sword.
"Still standing, you little shit?" the captain asked, a dark amusement in his eyes. "I'll admit, you've got guts. I'll give you one last choice. Drop the stick, swear to serve me, and I'll make sure your death is quick. You won't die screaming like the rest of this filth."
Arthur gathered the blood and saliva in his mouth and spat a crimson glob at the captain's boots.
"I'd rather die on my feet."
The captain's smile widened into a predator's grin.
"So be it."
He swung his mana-infused blade in a devastating, horizontal arc.
Arthur brought up what was left of his wooden sword to block.
The enchanted steel met the splintered wood.
There was a brilliant flash of violet light, and the wooden sword exploded, shattering into a thousand useless splinters that peppered the air.
The concussive force threw Arthur backward, his breath stolen, his hands torn and bleeding from the blast.
He landed hard on the floor, his body screaming in protest.
The captain advanced calmly, the tip of his glowing sword pointed directly at Arthur's heart.
"It's over, boy."
Arthur clenched his bloody fists, his vision swimming.
"No… I can still— I have to—"
The captain stabbed forward without another word.
Arthur's body seized, freezing in place as the lethal point drove toward him.
For a single, infinite moment, everything turned into a blinding, featureless white.
Was this… where his story ended?
He thought of Olivia's smile, so bright and full of life.
He heard his parents' last, desperate words echoing in his mind.
He saw the dream of knighthood, a future he would never reach, crumbling to dust.
"I'm so sorry… Olivia…"
The welcoming darkness rushed up to swallow him whole—
—
—
[Camelot System Activating…]
A voice, unlike any he had ever heard, rang across the void. It was calm, yet held immense, majestic power. It sounded ancient.
[Host: Arthur Pendragon. Detected.]
[Bloodline Compatibility: 99.89%]
[Situation: Imminent death.]
[Primary Directive: A King does not fall before his nation rises.]
A surge of warm, brilliant, golden light wrapped around his shattered spirit, pulling him back from the brink.
[Initiating emergency protocol: Awakening of the Once and Future King.]
Arthur gasped, a searing pain and power flooding his veins as his vision snapped back into horrifying, crystal-clear focus.
He wasn't dead.
Not yet.
Intricate, golden symbols glowed like molten fire just beneath his skin, and the phantom, shimmering outline of a magnificent crown flickered into existence above his head, casting a soft, regal light.
The captain, who had been moments from delivering the killing thrust, staggered backward, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and primal fear.
"What in the seven hells is this?! What kind of magic—?!"
Arthur rose slowly to his feet.
There was no more trembling. No more fear.
His body thrummed with a power that felt both alien and deeply, fundamentally his.
"My apologies," he said softly, but his voice was different now; deeper, steadier, resonating with an undeniable, commanding authority. "But a true king does not die on his knees."
Light exploded from his body.
[Skill Unlocked: Instinct (Rank: D)]
[Skill Unlocked: Mana Burst (Rank: E)]
[Temporary Authority Granted: Protection of Camelot]
Arthur's hand closed around nothing, but light coalesced into the shape of a blade.
Not steel.
Not wood.
Not yet Excalibur…
But a prototype, a "Beginning Sword" formed from pure mana.
The captain shouted, "Kill him!"
The pirates charged.
Arthur dashed forward.
The mana blade tore through the air, striking the captain's sword.
Mana clashed violently, sparks flying.
This time, steel shattered.
The captain's weapon broke apart like glass and Arthur's follow-up strike sent him flying into the dirt, coughing blood.
The other pirates froze.
"H-H-he's a monster!"
"Retreat! Retreat!"
But it was too late.
The System chimed again.
[Quest Complete: Protect Olivia]
[Rewards Granted: 1× Summon Ticket (Knight of the Round Table)]
[Warning: Host unconsciousness imminent]
Arthur exhaled, his mana flickering.
The temporary power was fading.
He fell to his knees…
…and collapsed face-first into the dirt as the pirates fled in terror.
The last thing he heard was Olivia's voice calling his name as knights arrived in the distance.
And the voice of the System whispering:
[Rise, Arthur Pendragon. Rebuild Camelot. Your legend begins now.]