Drawing the Sword of Selection

"Leon, we've arrived at the church. Next, you're going to draw the sword and become king of this country. Keep your spirits up and don't embarrass yourself."

The knight rode ahead to lead the way. Clad in gleaming armor, he turned to speak to the man in the carriage behind him.

The carriage was crude, just an ordinary flatbed wagon for hauling goods, pulled by two horses. Three mounted attendants rode alongside it.

There was only one man in the wagon. He sat huddled up, looking rather uncomfortable—not because the carriage was small, but because he was enormous.

He was two or three times the size of an ordinary person. Even seated in the low wagon, he looked taller than the knights on horseback.

"I know, brother. I'll definitely become king."

As they drew to a stop before the church, they encountered more and more people. Most were knights and their servants.

They stood in groups of two or three. Whenever they saw the giant in the wagon, they were dumbstruck and began whispering among themselves.

There was no other reason. He was simply too big—far beyond anything they could imagine!

Especially once the giant climbed down. His stature, taller than the surrounding buildings, made him even more conspicuous!

The giant was used to the astonishment and gossip by now. He simply waved and smiled at them.

That only made them marvel all the more.

"Honestly, is there really that much to be surprised about?" The man's mouth stretched into a grin, revealing prominent canine teeth. His lionlike face was full of wildness and sharpness.

He was about to draw the Sword of Selection and become King of Britain. The knights he'd met here might well become his followers, riding with him into battle. There was no need to quibble over something so trivial.

Ignoring the knights' astonishment, he thought of how he was about to draw the sword and become king of this country. He quickly tamped down his excitement and forced himself to calm down.

Lion El'Jonson was over three meters tall. This year, he was a squire in the domain of Caliban.

He had originally been an ordinary person from Earth, until one day he'd been hit by a truck-kun. When he regained consciousness, he found himself an infant, adopted by a lioness in the forest.

After spending eight years with his lioness mother, he met a lord named Luther. Luther took him out of the forest and adopted him as his son.

After years of studying and training in martial arts, Leon had learned the basics about this world.

It resembled medieval Earth. There were knights, magical beasts, Fairies, and dazzling True Magic, as well as powerful martial arts...

As for his size, before the age of eight, Leon had always thought he looked like a normal child. But after Luther adopted him, he realized that his eight-year-old self was already as tall as an ordinary adult. Now he stood three meters tall, and he estimated he'd keep growing—at least another half a meter.

After discovering how unusual he was, Leon began to make some guesses about his origins...

'A name meaning Lion, over three meters tall, unknown biological parents, a wealthy adoptive father, and an armed noble called a knight...'

Damn, is some golden giant going to come swooping down in a spaceship next?

After figuring out which world he'd transmigrated into, Leon felt like a Gretchin with a crushed toe.

I don't want to transmigrate into the Warhammer World!

In his previous life, Leon had learned a little about Warhammer lore. Not much—just what he'd picked up from fanfiction—but it was enough. Putting the pieces together, he realized that his true identity was none other than the Emperor's eldest son, the Lion King!

Once he understood what was going on, Leon adapted quickly.

After all, he was already here...

Still, since he'd ended up in this shithole of a world, he had to make some changes. The Horus Heresy was still a long way off, so he'd start with small things he could actually accomplish.

For example, uniting the planet beneath his feet...

By the time the golden giant arrived, Leon would have resources, trusted followers, and territory of his own. He couldn't expect to start out as strong as the Thirteenth, but at the very least, he wouldn't be as useless as a vehicle with Butcher's Nails.

Over the past eight years of study, Leon had drawn up a rough plan to conquer the world.

As it happened, he'd heard that the cemetery by the National Church held the Sword of Selection. The royal court had confirmed that whoever drew the sword would become King of Britain.

Leon understood.

It was Warhammer, after all. The world always had some countries modeled on places from Earth. The Five Hundred Worlds of the Thirteenth were based on Rome, the Khan's planet on Mongolia, and the Wolf King's domain on Scandinavia, among others.

Considering that Warhammer's setting had been written by a British studio, it was only natural for the knightly kingdom Leon now lived in to have a few King Arthur elements.

After hearing about the Sword of Selection, Leon decided to draw it and establish himself as king, then conquer the surrounding lands and unite the planet.

When Leon told his adoptive father what he intended to do, Luther was very supportive.

Luther had recognized Leon's extraordinary nature from the moment he adopted him.

Especially after teaching him for the past few years, Luther had realized that his adopted son was sharp-minded, had a photographic memory, was tall and powerful, and possessed exceptional martial skills... His virtues were too numerous to count.

If a man like that wasn't fit to be king, then who was?

"My son Leon has the makings of a great emperor."

As he encouraged Leon, Luther contacted his friends and subordinates, gathering a large crowd to build support for him.

People had to look ahead.

If Leon became King of Britain, not only would the country be saved, but Luther and the rest of his family would benefit too. Perhaps they wouldn't all be granted noble titles, but they'd certainly live in comfort for the rest of their lives.

He was eager to get ahead, too!

Leon was quite pleased with all this.

What if he couldn't draw the sword?

The thought crossed Leon's mind, then vanished in an instant.

As if! Who was he?

"I'm the Emperor's eldest son, the most perfect Primarch, a demigod in the flesh. If I can't draw the sword and become king, who could possibly deserve the throne?"

Full of confidence, Leon followed his brother to the cemetery where the Sword of Selection rested.

Carriages and people filled the area around the church. At Luther's invitation, they had gathered to witness the birth of a new king.

The knight riding at the front was Leon's adoptive brother, Joe.

He was Luther's biological son, two years older than Leon. They'd trained and studied together since childhood. They weren't related by blood, but they were closer than brothers.

Joe had also tried to draw the sword some time ago, but he'd failed.

After Leon climbed down, the attendants led the horses and wagon off to be tied up. Joe struggled to take a large bundle from the wagon and handed it to Leon.

"This is the armor Father had made for you. It's been blessed by Fairies."

Then he picked up a sword taller than himself and handed it over as well.

"And this is the greatsword made for you. It wasn't easy to forge weapons and armor to fit your build."

"Thank you, brother." Leon knew how much his adoptive family had sacrificed to make his weapons and armor. It had cost them two years' worth of income from the domain.

Although anything involving Fairies sounded like bad news in the Warhammer World, now wasn't the time to worry about that.

He'd settle accounts in the autumn.

Joe leaned against Leon's thigh and looked up at his brother, who was taller than a house.

"Put it on. Everyone's waiting to pay their respects to the new king."

With help from his brother and the attendants, Leon put on his new armor and belted the greatsword at his waist.

"Leon, you look magnificent!" Joe looked at his brother and nodded, unable to help himself.

Leon's plate armor gleamed with a metallic sheen. It was mostly white, decorated with blue patterns and small golden ornaments. One hand rested on the sword hilt, while a blue cloak billowed behind him in the wind. He looked incredibly handsome.

"Let's go, brother. Father's waiting."

When Leon entered the cemetery behind the church, a crowd of lords and knights was already gathered around the sword embedded in the stone, waiting for his arrival.

Leon's size was impossible to miss. The moment he appeared, everyone's attention turned to him.

"So this is the son Luther's always been so proud of!"

"He's certainly tall. He looks like a formidable warrior."

Old Luther's a lucky man.

Some of them were friends and colleagues of Leon or his father, Luther. They'd met him before, but every time they saw him, they still couldn't help marveling.

A sharp-eyed, middle-aged knight led the group over to Leon. Looking up at the tall, valiant young man, he smiled with pride.

"Leon, my son, my pride—you've arrived." It was none other than Leon's adoptive father, Luther.

Luther had gathered a crowd to show support for Leon. He'd also arrived at the church where the Sword of Selection rested ahead of time, to discuss with his colleagues what they would do after Leon drew the sword and became king.

"Father, sorry for the wait." Leon half-kneeled, allowing Luther to rest a hand on his shoulder.

Looking at his lion-faced son, brimming with ambition, Luther contentedly patted his shoulder and joked, "Go on. The lords will be swearing their allegiance to you next."

Under the gaze of the crowd surrounding him, Leon greeted the people he knew as he made his way toward the Sword of Selection at the center of the cemetery.

The greatsword was embedded halfway into a stone. Its hilt was sky blue, and its golden crossguard bore ornate patterns. Leon couldn't help admiring it.

'What a fine sword.'

Judging by the size of the hilt and the width of the blade, it was a two-handed greatsword. An ordinary person could barely wrap both hands around the hilt. Leon could grip it with one hand, and to him it was little more than a short sword.

"Ha!"

Leon gripped the sword and yanked hard, but the blade didn't budge.

He tried to draw it...

He couldn't!

"What's going on?"

"Even Leon can't draw the sword?"

"I knew it was all a farce. What country chooses its king through a ridiculous stunt like this?"

"Impossible! There's no way! Leon's so strong—how could he fail?"

The knights erupted into discussion at the sight.

Everyone who knew Leon looked incredulous, especially Luther and Joe. As the family members who spent every day with him, they knew just how strong he was. Saying he could move mountains wasn't an exaggeration. It was a literal description.

With Leon's abilities and character, with that regal bearing, it was impossible for him not to draw the Sword in the Stone!

'If even Leon can't draw the Sword in the Stone, who in the world could?'

They weren't the only ones. Leon himself was staring in disbelief.

It was as if his entire worldview had collapsed.

No way. Did he really not have the makings of a king?

That was impossible!

He was Leon El'Jonson, the Emperor's finest son, the Imperium's greatest Primarch, a demigod in the mortal realm!

How could he fail to draw a mere sword stuck in a stone?

Leon glanced at the knights around him, and his heart tightened.

'Now's no time to panic. The most important thing is to draw the sword! I have to get it out, no matter what!'

If he failed to draw it, it wouldn't just be his own reputation that suffered. The entire Luther family would be disgraced.

It might be more than just embarrassment. If he couldn't draw the sword, his whole family could even be in danger.

Ever since the previous king, King Uther, had been poisoned to death, Camelot had gone without a king for years. Ambitions had flared across the country, and the unrest had left the people anxious... Luther had once let Leon know that if even Leon couldn't draw the sword, he would save the country by his own means.

Luther was a warrior through and through. What other way of saving the country could he possibly have?

To secure Britain's legitimacy and moral authority for Luther's coming effort to save the country—and to fulfill his own ambitions—Leon had to draw the sword!

"Haha, don't tell me you're all scared. Did you really think I couldn't draw a measly sword?"

Leon lifted his head proudly and laughed easily at the crowd, calming their nerves.

"That was just a joke. Now open your eyes and watch closely. I'm going to get serious!"

His words brought a chorus of laughter and teasing from the crowd, but they did help put everyone at ease.

Seeing Leon's confident smile, Joe joined the others in laughing and joking as if Leon had fooled them. But inside, he was deeply worried.

As Leon's brother, how could he fail to see his younger brother's predicament?

Leon wasn't the sort to joke about something this important!

Joe exchanged a glance with their father and saw the worry between his brows, too.

'This time, I have to draw the sword!'

Leon circled the Sword of Selection, his steps heavy. The ground cracked beneath his feet.

He gripped the sword with one hand and braced its base with the other.

Leon suddenly exerted himself. His face flushed, veins bulging across his forehead, as a series of cracking sounds rang out.

"Yaaah!"

The sword rose little by little before everyone's eyes.

Boom!

A thunderous crash, like a mountain collapsing, rang out. A cloud of dust enveloped the spot where Leon stood, obscuring him from view. Only a faint silhouette could be seen within.

Inside the dust cloud, Leon held the Sword of Selection, panting hard.

At last...

"I drew it!"

Drawing the sword had drained all of Leon's strength. He'd never struggled so much in his life.

After his first failed attempt, Leon had realized he wasn't the sword's true owner.

This time, though, he'd relied on brute strength beyond anything an ordinary person could imagine, smashing the stone around the sword and the stone base buried in the ground, and forcibly pulling the sword free.

As a result, the sword in his hand felt unbearably heavy. Even holding it up with one hand was a struggle, let alone swinging it.

'Heavier than a mountain. A million pounds? Ten million? I'm the only one who could draw it!'

It was the Sword of Selection, after all. Someone must have placed some sort of magic or witchcraft on it.

Leon used the edge of his palm to knock the remaining stone fragments from the blade. He held the sword up in front of him and examined it closely. Even through the cloud of dust, his eyes could make out its sharp edge.

Despite years of exposure to wind and rain, the blade wasn't rusty or damaged. It still retained its elegance and keen edge. It was clearly a divine weapon.

'It's just a bit too small for me, too heavy, and awkward to handle...'

Leon swept his hand through the air, sending a gust of wind that scattered the dust around him.

When the dust settled, everyone could see what had happened.

Leon stood in a deep, cracked crater. Facing the crowd of knights, he slowly raised the Sword in the Stone over his head. Its razor-sharp blade gleamed coldly, dazzling everyone who looked at it.

"Lords, pay your respects to your king!"