Chapter 269 |
Once Nothing Special (2)
Merlin suddenly remembered the past.
What came back to her was the day the Round Table split apart.
The memory of that day flashed before her eyes. It had happened more than a thousand years ago, yet it still felt as vivid as last night. Merlin pictured the faces of the traitors of the Round Table.
The knight of betrayal, Mordred.
The one who abandoned being a knight, Lancelot.
Starting with those two, the Round Table collapsed. Gawain became the sun himself and burned his own body away. Agravain smashed his own head against the Round Table and killed himself. Tristan, Galahad, Kay, Percival... every knight except Bedivere chose death.
Death, or becoming something worse than death.
The knights of the Round Table who made that choice said this.
And Bedivere said:
"A long, long night with no end in sight is coming."
"But someday, tomorrow comes."
"Slowly, but surely."
"Tomorrow will come, without fail."
Back then, Merlin did not understand those words. She did not know why Bedivere had spoken with such certainty, or why he had not left the Round Table.
"Ah."
She had not known then.
"So that is what he meant."
Now she felt like she understood.
No, maybe saying now was not right.
She had probably realized it two years ago.
Those two years of travel had simply made Merlin certain. As she drew up her mana, Merlin looked behind her. Najin was there, battered all over, bleeding, yet still staggering back to his feet.
Looking at him, Merlin gave a faint smile.
She was a Guide. A Guide was someone who always found the path. To hold on to the path she had found, Merlin swung her hand. Mana sparked along her fingers.
Blue mana surged like a tide.
She could not call in her True Body. This was the center of the continent, and an underground city where stars could not reach.
Then what power could she wield?
That too was pitiful. She was fighting with not even half of half her original output. Wielding power that could not even touch Transcendence, Merlin felt as if shackles were wrapped around her entire body.
But the same was true for her opponent.
If Mordred and Merlin had been in their True Bodies right now, not an Avatar Body or Soul Body, they could have turned the whole underground city into rubble with a single gesture. But right now, all they could do with a swing of the hand was sweep through a gap of a few dozen meters.
"Ridiculous."
Mordred cut down Merlin's magic and laughed. His laughter echoed for a long time.
"You think you can defeat me with a mere Soul Body that cannot even wield Transcendence? Looks like those thousand years even took your eyesight, Merlin."
His voice dripped with contempt.
It irritated her, but it was true.
"It is pointless."
Magic was cut apart. Sliced, shattered, scattered.
Magic that should not have been cut so easily was getting cut with ease.
It was not only because Mordred's swordsmanship was excellent. What stood before Merlin now was an Avatar Body that had received part of Mordred's True Body, but Merlin was not the same case.
Merlin's Soul Body had settled inside Najin's Imagery and materialized outside through his Imagery, so naturally she could not wield power beyond what Najin possessed. All she could manage was power close to Transcendence, but not reaching it.
So she was pushed back.
Any way to overcome the output gap, skill, experience, vast knowledge, none of it mattered much here. Mordred had the same experience as Merlin. Both were Transcendents who had lived over a thousand years.
"All of it is pointless."
Clarent flashed. The view itself was cut on a slant, and a violent wind rushed through. Merlin's blue hair swayed in that wind.
Snap. Merlin flicked her finger.
Blue droplets floated up around her body. More than thirty droplets rippled, each carrying its own spell.
"And yet."
Mordred ground his teeth.
"Why are you smiling?"
He looked at Merlin like he truly could not understand. At that, Merlin burst out laughing.
The past flashed through her mind.
"Why?"
There she was, in the past, pouring out rage at Mordred for betraying Arthur.
"Why did you betray Arthur? After betraying him, how can you smile like that? What is so funny?"
"How could I not be joyful, Merlin."
"What?"
Mordred had spread both arms wide and spoken.
He had laughed and shouted at Merlin.
"Excalibur will choose a new master."
"Even if it takes decades, centuries, it will happen."
"It will carry out Selection and choose one fit to be a great hero."
"A true hero, unlike Arthur, who was only a hero made by his era. Someone greater than Arthur."
"Ah, that one will be Britannia's savior!"
"The true king and guide who will lead us beyond Camlann, to the end of the world we dreamed of!"
"Merlin, blind one with open eyes, can you not see this brilliant future!"
Watching Mordred exult, laugh, and rave in ecstasy, Merlin had asked him why he was smiling. What in the world was so delightful?
"What exactly is so funny? Can you not understand this situation, Merlin? You cannot stop me."
The question she had thrown at him then, now Mordred was throwing at her, wearing that same baffled expression.
"How could I not laugh?"
Merlin smirked.
"You prophesied it, remember? That someday Excalibur would carry out Selection and choose a new hero."
"And you are saying that hero is that brat? The true hero chosen by the king's sword is only..."
"No, you are wrong."
Mordred cut apart all of Merlin's magic and charged in. The moment his blade was about to reach Merlin, crack, Mordred's foot froze. Frost spread over his body.
He frowned, but still swung.
The blade came in slowly. Merlin had no way to dodge it. She did not even try.
Because she was not fighting alone.
Kaaang!
Najin burst out from Merlin's side and knocked Mordred's sword away. Breathing hard, Najin lowered his blade. Feeling him at her side, Merlin spoke to Mordred.
"You really know nothing."
Merlin curled her lips.
Mordred had prophesied that Excalibur would choose a new hero. But Merlin saw it differently. It was not Excalibur that chose.
It was the opposite.
Najin never followed fate. He did not walk a road that had been given to him, he carved a new one. He did not adapt to the world, he flipped it off and smashed what blocked him. He did not become like that because he drew Excalibur. He had always been that kind of person.
That was why he could draw it.
Excalibur had not chosen Najin.
Najin had chosen Excalibur.
She did not tell Mordred what she had realized. She only answered him with the same sneer Mordred had once thrown at her.
"..."
Mordred's face lost all expression.
Staring at Merlin, he said,
"You have changed, Merlin."
"What nonsense, idiot."
Merlin sneered.
"What in this world does not change?"
Together with Najin, she matched his rhythm and faced Mordred. They were still being pushed back. Back and back again. But unlike before, they were not being completely overwhelmed.
Merlin protected Najin.
Najin protected Merlin.
They blocked attacks aimed at each other, deflected them, and stepped forward. They did not exchange a word, not even a glance, yet they covered each other's openings perfectly, like one body.
They did not need to speak to know.
Blue mana and platinum Sword Aura kept flashing.
Inside that storm of light, Merlin narrowed her eyes.
Then she smiled.
She had realized it before anyone else.
Tick, t-tick...
The shell wrapped around Najin, the cage that had trapped him, was cracking. Najin's soul was on the verge of Ascension. If so, Merlin's role was simple.
"Someday, tomorrow will come without fail."
The long night was ending. A light that would brighten the darkness was about to rise.
But the sun had not risen yet, and dawn still needed a little more time to arrive.
Buying that time was her role.
Dawn was drawing near.
2.
Najin swung his sword.
Again and again.
At some point, the sound of blade clashing against blade started to feel far away. Blood sprayed, bones broke, his body creaked, yet Najin's eyes were unfocused.
As if he were dreaming.
Swinging in a trance, Najin looked into his own inner world. The underground city Artman was there. Najin's hometown, and where every story had begun.
Why did my Imagery look like Artman?
Najin asked himself.
Thinking about it, it was true. Until now, he had brushed that question aside, saying it was because it was his hometown, because it was his starting point. He had never dug deep into why his Imagery took the form of the underground city.
A deep well. The first memory. The starting point.
Najin sank into the depths of his inner self. With the sensation of sinking underwater, he recalled a memory.
The memory he recalled was the first wish he had ever made.
"..."
In a place where stars could not be seen.
A young boy looked up at the ceiling.
There was no sky there. Only a ceiling of rock stretched out above. There were no stars there. Only dim lights from luminous stones embedded in the rock.
A false sky and false stars.
Inside those false things, the boy dreamed of stars.
In his hand was The Chronicles of Arthur. Turning that thrilling story over and over in his mind, the boy looked up and made a wish to the stars.
Najin remembered that wish.
"An adventure like Arthur's."
No, the younger him reached toward the sky and said,
"An adventure even cooler than Arthur's."
The boy wished for an adventure like that.
That was the first wish Najin had ever held.
Remembering that wish he had long forgotten, Najin smiled without thinking. Right, I did make a wish like that.
Turning the memory over in his mind, Najin stepped forward.
His left eye, blinded by running blood, stayed shut. With his closed left eye, Najin looked inward. With his open right eye, he looked at reality. Blocking Mordred's storming blade, Najin steadied his breath.
Even with one eye closed, his field of view widened.
This was the underground city, Artman.
A city where stars could not be seen.
Because stars were unseen, the people here longed for them. So they made ore lamps. They remembered sunlight through the dim dusk-colored glow, and made constellations through the ore lamps hanging from each home.
Kaaaaang!
Najin blocked a strike and was thrown far back. He rolled on the floor, stood up, and coughed blood. Spitting blood and clutching his torn shoulder, Najin laughed.
He could see the ore lamps.
Rows of ore lamps lining every home were shining like stars.
A city where stars could not be seen, filled with people dreaming of stars.
The boy born in that city did not know what stars looked like, or what starlight was.
He did not, but...
"Cross the line, Najin."
He came to know.
"Reach for what you cannot reach. Punch the faces of the ones who mutter that you should know your place."
Because he had seen it that day.
Kaaang!
Deflecting Mordred's charging sword, Najin threw his fist. Crack, his fist slammed into Mordred's face.
It did not deal heavy damage to a Transcendent.
Mordred's eyes narrowed. What mattered was that the punch had landed. Blown away by the pressure and tumbling across the ground, Najin rose faster than before.
"Look higher and run."
Najin looked at Mordred.
Maybe he was looking beyond him.
"Climb up there, higher than anyone."
Inside him, seen through his closed left eye, a certain knight was smiling at Najin. That knight had been the first star Najin ever saw. The one who taught him that a human life could shine like a star. Najin's teacher.
Ivan, the knight who chased stars, pointed at Najin.
Najin realized it. The underground city scene rooted in his inner world had existed for this very moment.
Why is a city where stars cannot be seen my Imagery?
To prove it.
It is fine if stars cannot be seen.
It is fine if starlight does not reach this place.
Even if nobody pays attention to this place.
Even if not a single star looks down at this city.
Still, it is fine.
Because...
There are stars here too.
The star Ivan had shown him that day, the star that had fallen for him, now it was Najin's turn to hang one in the sky.
Kaaaaaaaaang!
Najin blocked Mordred's rushing sword. Merlin was helping him, yes, but this time something was different. Najin, who should have been hurled back and sent rolling, was pushed back but did not fall.
With both feet planted.
He endured with his sword still raised.
Until now, Najin gained new wounds every time he blocked. This time, he did not. Najin steadied his breath and opened his left eye.
He no longer needed to look inward.
Reality itself was now his Imagery.
Starlight bloomed around Najin like flowers.
...He had gained enough experience.
After Sprouting and Blossoming, the next stage.
The blooming flower reached Full Bloom.
The moment Najin became certain of himself, he began to hear a voice. It was not Merlin's voice.
Draw the sword.
It was the same voice Najin had heard two years ago.