King Arthur

Without hesitation, without retreat.

Artoria's hand closed around the hilt of the Sword of Promised Victory, Cailbur.

Under the eager, calm, and astonished gazes of everyone present, Cailbur slid free without the slightest resistance.

Merlin smiled. "From this moment on, the name Artoria will fade alongside your former glory. In accordance with King Uther's dying wish, my king, from now on, we shall call you King Arthur."

Having cast aside her identity as a woman, the girl who had become a king named Arthur Pendragon turned around and raised Cailbur high above her head.

The golden blade shone brilliantly, reflecting a dazzling light.

Led by Anno and Merlin, everyone dropped to one knee without thinking.

King Arthur was born in that moment.

Before long, a great many knights appeared at the Knights' Cemetery from who knew where.

Spies had spread the news that Arthur had successfully drawn the sword.

Anno sprang to his feet in fury, drew the Chalk Holy Sword at his waist, and drove the knights who had entered the Knights' Cemetery out.

"You disrespectful bastards! You're full of shit! Get out of this hallowed place! You have no right to enter the Knights' Cemetery!" Everyone recognized the beast who had lain low in Camelot for over a decade. They scattered, unwilling to challenge Britain's strongest knight head-on.

Although he had driven away these busybodies, the news of the new king's birth still spread rapidly.

Morgan le Fay Pendragon, living in a castle near Camelot, was so furious her gums bled. Her beautiful face twisted with hatred. "How is this possible?!"

That damned sword had been stuck there for a whole year! Who on earth had pulled it out?!

For the past year, she had trained her eldest son, Agravain, relentlessly, hoping to have him draw that sword. But someone had beaten him to it!

"Steward! Have the servants get me ready. I'm going out!" she called, then hurried off to change.

Whatever the case, she needed to see it with her own eyes before deciding anything!

It was already afternoon.

In the square within Camelot's royal city,

a large crowd of nobles and knights had gathered.

Everyone knew that the Sword of Selection had been drawn. Merlin, the court mage, had announced that the new king of Britain would appear here, and that the coronation ceremony would be held here three days later.

Many of the great nobles had dismissed the news and even considered not coming at all.

But Anno, former commander of the Britain Chalk Knights, went directly to their homes with his son and another knight. He had a little talk and tea with each of them, after which they came along "full of joy."

A short while later,

a young knight wearing blue-and-white armor, Cailbur—the Sword of Selection—hanging at his waist, walked onto the raised platform in the square.

Two people followed behind him.

One was Earl Anno, Britain's most powerful military figure.

The other was Merlin, the court magician who had served in the Royal Court since King Uther's reign.

In the crowd below, a noblewoman wearing a gray veil stared at the figure on the platform, her eyes as venomous with jealousy as a snake's.

After drawing the sword, Arthur had fully stepped into the role of Britain's king, brimming with confidence and pride.

Now she stood with the Sword of Promised Victory in hand, looking down at the great nobles of Britain.

An unstoppable sharpness radiated from her youthful face.