Once Nothing Special (2)
rlin suddenly rembered the past.
What ca back to her was the day the Round Table split apart.
The mory 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. rlin 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 beca 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 sothing worse than death.
The knights of the Round Table who made that choice said this.
Their story was over. Their story ended here. They were too exhausted to wait for a tomorrow that might never co.
And Bedivere said:
"A long, long night with no end in sight is coming."
"But soday, tomorrow cos."
"Slowly, but surely."
"Tomorrow will co, without fail."
Back then, rlin 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 ant."
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 rlin certain. As she drew up her mana, rlin looked behind her. Najin was there, battered all over, bleeding, yet still staggering back to his feet.
Looking at him, rlin gave a faint smile.
She was a Guide. A Guide was soone who always found the path. To hold on to the path she had found, rlin 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, rlin felt as if shackles were wrapped around her entire body.
But the sa was true for her opponent.
If Mordred and rlin 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 ters.
"Ridiculous."
Mordred cut down rlin's magic and laughed. His laughter echoed for a long ti.
"You think you can defeat with a re Soul Body that cannot even wield Transcendence? Looks like those thousand years even took your eyesight, rlin."
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 rlin now was an Avatar Body that had received part of Mordred's True Body, but rlin was not the sa case.
rlin'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 overco the output gap, skill, experience, vast knowledge, none of it mattered much here. Mordred had the sa experience as rlin. 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. rlin's blue hair swayed in that wind.
Snap. rlin 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 rlin like he truly could not understand. At that, rlin 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, rlin."
"What?"
Mordred had spread both arms wide and spoken.
He had laughed and shouted at rlin.
"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. Soone 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 dread of!"
"rlin, blind one with open eyes, can you not see this brilliant future!"
Watching Mordred exult, laugh, and rave in ecstasy, rlin 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, rlin? You cannot stop ."
The question she had thrown at him then, now Mordred was throwing at her, wearing that sa baffled expression.
"How could I not laugh?"
rlin smirked.
"You prophesied it, rember? That soday 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 rlin's magic and charged in. The mont his blade was about to reach rlin, crack, Mordred's foot froze. Frost spread over his body.
He frowned, but still swung.
The blade ca in slowly. rlin had no way to dodge it. She did not even try.
Because she was not fighting alone.
Kaaang!
Najin burst out from rlin's side and knocked Mordred's sword away. Breathing hard, Najin lowered his blade. Feeling him at her side, rlin spoke to Mordred.
"You really know nothing."
rlin curled her lips.
Mordred had prophesied that Excalibur would choose a new hero. But rlin 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 beco 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 sa sneer Mordred had once thrown at her.
"..."
Mordred's face lost all expression.
Staring at rlin, he said,
"You have changed, rlin."
"What nonsense, idiot."
rlin 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 overwheld.
rlin protected Najin.
Najin protected rlin.
They blocked attacks aid 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, rlin 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, rlin's role was simple.
"Soday, tomorrow will co 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 ti to arrive.
Buying that ti was her role.
Dawn was drawing near.
2.
Najin swung his sword.
Again and again.
At so 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 hotown, 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 hotown, 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 mory. The starting point.
Najin sank into the depths of his inner self. With the sensation of sinking underwater, he recalled a mory.
The mory 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 dread 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 rembered 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.
Rembering that wish he had long forgotten, Najin smiled without thinking. Right, I did make a wish like that.
Turning the mory 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 rembered sunlight through the dim dusk-colored glow, and made constellations through the ore lamps hanging from each ho.
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 ho 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 ca 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 slamd 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 mont.
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. rlin was helping him, yes, but this ti sothing 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 ti he blocked. This ti, 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 blood around Najin like flowers.
...He had gained enough experience.
After Sprouting and Blossoming, the next stage.
The blooming flower reached Full Bloom.
The mont Najin beca certain of himself, he began to hear a voice. It was not rlin's voice.
Draw the sword.
It was the sa voice Najin had heard two years ago.
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