Kingdom of Camelot, royal capital.
Anno opened his eyes.
Though his body was strong, he could still feel that tangible chill.
Looking to the side, he saw the white-haired mage standing beside him, leaning on a wooden staff.
"What is it, Sir Anno?"
The mage wore the same smile he had worn for decades as he looked at the knight clad in white armor.
"...The expression on your face hasn't changed since the day I first met you."
"Has it?"
Behind them stood Camelot's assembled ministers.
And before them—
A tall but withered man wearing a crown and a crimson cloak stood with his back to them.
"...Is it worth it?"
The mage shifted his gaze from the knight to the red cloak, as though it had been dyed in blood.
"I know it can't feel good to force yourself to accept all this. This must have been a difficult decision for you, hasn't it?"
Faced with the mage's question, the knight said nothing.
The king held a golden longsword in his hand.
"I don't know."
"I only feel that..."
The knight lowered his eyes.
Yet the king raised the sword in his hand.
"I must..."
Clang—
The king drove the sword into the meteorite iron before him.
"Do this."
Boom—!
The instant the sword pierced the meteorite iron, a fierce wind erupted from it and spread in all directions. Everyone in the cemetery raised their heads.
The king turned around and looked down at his subjects below, including the knight and the mage.
"This sword is called [Golden Sword of Victory] (Cailbur)."
The king's voice echoed through the cemetery at dusk.
The ministers listened in utter silence.
They knew that this lion before them was speaking these words here for the last time.
"Whoever draws this sword shall be