Accepting the Challenge

The Green Knight laughed brazenly at King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table, mocking those hailed by the world as the bravest of all.

The focus of his mockery was none other than Arthur, king of the Round Table knights.

Kay the seneschal could no longer restrain himself. He wanted to draw his sword and rush out to defend his sovereign's honor and the dignity of the Knights of the Round Table, but the moment he moved, Bedivere stopped him.

"Why are you stopping me?"

Kay was full of confusion. As seneschal and royal steward, he and Bedivere were the closest of friends.

How could they tolerate this uninvited guest insulting the Arthurian dynasty so freely?

"That monster has an immortal body. If you challenge him, you'll only throw your life away. You should know that there are many immortal creatures in this world. They are not gods with the immortality of myth, but while you can defeat and injure them, you cannot destroy them completely. If you rush out there, the result will only be that you cut off his head, he revives on the spot, and a year later, he cuts off yours. Sir Kay, do you think you can still live after losing your head?"

Bedivere spoke in an agitated tone. Though he was equally furious, he could only pretend not to see the Green Knight roaring in the court.

"But we can't just let him run wild in court. Someone has to defend the King's and our dignity." Hearing his friend's advice, Kay calmed down. Even though he could weigh the consequences, he was still unwilling to accept it.

Wasn't this monster merely relying on the fact that he was not human and possessed an immortal body?

But if he truly rushed out and accepted the provocation, that would be nothing more than reckless courage.

Sir Kay returned unwillingly to his seat, while Bedivere turned his gaze toward Merlin, the great mage.

At that moment, Merlin wore a contemplative expression.

The moment the Green Knight entered Arthur's banquet hall, Merlin had noticed something amiss.

Whenever the Green Knight took a step across the stone floor of the palace, grass sprouted beneath his feet, then withered and vanished.

Green had always symbolized nature. To the druids of the old faith, the oak was a sacred symbol. Whether wizards or druids, both wielded the power of nature.

Holly, meanwhile, symbolized death and rebirth. It was both the color of life and the color of decay. In a world ruled by nature, it signified the endless cycle of creation and extinction.

This was no monster, but a primal deity possessed of divinity—the incarnation of nature.

Such powerful magic, such immense magical power... who had summoned the Green Knight?

Who controlled him? What was his purpose—or rather, what was the purpose of the person behind him?

A Christmas game of friendship. A game.

He had been summoned merely for a game.

A startling conjecture surfaced in Merlin's heart.

Camelot had a just king, honorable knights, and magic that governed this land.

Camelot was a gathering place for magic, its very center, and King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table likewise ruled the land through magic.

If the Green Knight had been summoned with malicious intent, it would have been impossible for him to arrive without Merlin sensing anything at all.

Then there was only one possibility. His summoner had truly come in goodwill, seeking nothing more than a game in Arthur's court.

In Britain, there were only a handful of people capable of summoning such a powerful Green Knight, especially within the royal court.

The answer was already obvious. It was magic cast by Arthur's sister.

As the royal house, the Pendragon family had always enjoyed special privileges in Camelot. Like England's twelve baronial families, they were among the most ancient families since Britain's founding, and their bloodline contained great power.

The men of this family produced valiant warriors generation after generation, while the women possessed an aptitude for magic and became witches.

In the myths of Greece and Rome, kings were descendants of Jupiter—Zeus—and possessed extraordinary bloodlines. Their sons were natural heroes, while their daughters were born priestesses.

Could the intent behind this spell be a mother's painstaking devotion?

If Gawain wished to become a knight, he needed achievements. Achievements came from strength and deeds. Thus, without either strength or notable deeds, even with the great Arthur as his uncle, Gawain would find it difficult to be knighted.

Perhaps this loving mother had realized that already. Eager to see her son become a knight, she had spared no effort to create an achievement for him.

Yes. The Green Knight had undoubtedly been summoned by Gawain's mother.

Gawain's mother did not know that King Arthur intended to knight Gawain through a "story," through literary accomplishment.

The two plans had undoubtedly come into conflict.

Yet Gawain's mother's plan was surely exactly what Arthur wanted to see.

Perhaps in later generations, someone might be knighted for outstanding contributions to literature, invention, and creation, and people would consider it only natural, entirely deserved, and the will of the people.

But in this ignorant and dark age, in Camelot, a cultural wasteland where the vast majority of knights were illiterate, knighting someone for literary achievement lacked persuasive force.

Like a swan fallen among a flock of ducks, it would be utterly out of place, unaccepted by its surroundings, and would instead invite attack.

Therefore, Gawain had to gain glory in the traditional manner of knights—through the adventure of a legendary tale.

Even if that success was built upon a lie.

Just as Merlin had once proclaimed in London Cathedral the prophecy that "whoever draws Excalibur from the stone shall be king." Everyone believed it was a ritual for choosing a king. Nobles and knights eagerly tried their luck, all wanting to see whether they could draw the sword from the stone, whether they might be the king chosen by heaven.

In truth, Merlin, who had trained Arthur since childhood, had understood from the very beginning that his prophecy was a lie. The person who could draw Excalibur had been decided at birth. It was Arthur.

At this moment, Arthur, having received Merlin's hint, might have understood something as well.

After all, this was magic from his sister.

Under the Green Knight's provocation, the Knights of the Round Table all fell silent. Not one stepped forward at once to accept his challenge.

If none of them accepted the Green Knight's challenge, then before nobles and common folk from every land, King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table would become the laughingstock of every prince, noble, and peasant across Europe.

A kingdom that lost its honor would lose the people's reverence. Even the utterly defeated Saxons might begin entertaining dangerous thoughts.

Arthur lowered his head and looked at the sword at his waist. Now that all the knights refused to fight, as king, he would have to personally accept the Green Knight's challenge and defend their honor.

Yet Merlin smiled at that moment. He lightly flicked a finger, and Gawain, who had been sitting on his stool, was launched into the air by the stool's violent jolt. Unable to stop himself as if he had run too fast, he stumbled into the center of the banquet hall, before King Arthur and the Green Knight.

"Gawain, you truly are brave!"

King Arthur looked astonished. His earlier conversation with Gawain had made him understand his nephew's character, so when every Knight of the Round Table had remained silent, he had never expected Gawain to rush forward first. His surprise was mixed with delight.

This was truly both astonishing and delightful.

It seemed a newborn calf really did not fear tigers.

"So you are my challenger, boy!"

The Green Knight smiled in satisfaction and raised his axe, forcibly handing it to Gawain, who still had no idea what was going on.

The essence of the Green Knight's game was a game of taking turns cutting off each other's heads.

He was actually going to take part in such a terrifying and idiotic game. It was even more idiotic and terrifying than playing Russian roulette with a revolver.

Gawain took a deep breath and wanted to refuse. He did not want to play this game. It was simply awful. Even the odds of slaying a dragon, however slim, were better than this.

He wanted to give up. He wanted to surrender. Then he heard laughter—triumphant laughter that seemed to be mocking him as a coward.

You think someone like you deserves to become a knight?

You call yourself King Arthur's nephew?

Gawain tightened his grip around the axe. In the Green Knight's eyes, he vaguely saw a blindfolded woman. Time stopped in an instant.

He thought of his mother, who was full of expectations for him and believed he would surely become a knight and return in triumph.

Everyone's ridicule and mockery rang in his ears.

If he dropped the axe, he would surely be driven from Camelot in disgrace. Even being King Arthur's nephew would not save him.

But Gawain wanted to live. He only wanted to live. That was all.

He had only just arrived in this world. He had accomplished almost nothing, earned no merit, built no career. He did not want to lose his life over this inexplicable game.

In this world, righteous people wanted to live. Evil people wanted to live. Everyone wanted to live.

The noble hero Aeneas wanted to live. The traitor Aeneas also wanted to live. They were the same person.

Because he wanted to live, he betrayed Troy at the final moment. Thus, Aeneas the traitor was not noble.

Yet it was precisely because Aeneas, the ancestor who had chosen surrender and endured disgrace to survive, lived on and compromised that Romulus was able to found Rome, and his descendants conquer Britain, France, and Spain.

It was only right to praise Hector, the hero who fought to the end. But how could later descendants be overly harsh toward Aeneas, the ancestor who had ensured their people endured?

Even the noble Knights of the Round Table wished to cling to life.

Gawain threw down the axe the Green Knight had handed him. The Green Knight smiled—a victorious smile. To Gawain, it was the smile of a woman, so similar to his mother's smile.

Gawain had surrendered. Gawain had failed. Gawain had given up becoming a knight. Gawain had abandoned his responsibility.

King Arthur showed disappointment. He looked at the Green Knight with a stern gaze, as though saying, Then I shall accept your challenge.

Yes. If the Knights of the Round Table would not accept the Green Knight's challenge, and Gawain also refused, then the only one left to play this idiotic game of mutual beheading would undoubtedly be King Arthur.

Arthur would lose his head.

Seeing Arthur's expression, Gawain suddenly understood. He had cast aside an enemy he should have faced and defeated himself, forcing someone else to bear it—and making his uncle die in his place.

The Gawain of the original story had won glory from the Green Knight in splendid fashion.

Helpless at the final moment, Arthur's Knights of the Round Table were unwilling to bleed for him or pledge their lives in loyalty, while Gawain, his own nephew, had abandoned him as well.

Pain welled up in Gawain's heart. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind. As everyone watched him and witnessed his cowardice, he clenched his fists and spoke in a resolute voice. "This is a stupid game. I have never seen such a stupid game."

The Green Knight stared at Gawain in surprise. Arthur watched his nephew, who had lowered his head and was engaged in a fierce inner struggle, as Gawain spoke with courage that was almost a roar. "What kind of game is this? Even a Knight of the Round Table—even a hero of myth—Hercules would still die if his head were cut off. No one is an exception. A human head is not the Hydra's head. You can't cut it off and expect it to grow back."

After saying this, Gawain gulped in breaths like a fish stranded on dry land without rain. In an angry tone, he continued, "There is a story from the East. There were two warriors, one from east of the city and one from west of the city. Both were renowned for their bravery. One day, they met and agreed to drink together. Since they had no food to accompany the wine, they decided to prove their courage and outdo one another, each wanting to become the bravest man in town.

"So they cut flesh from their own bodies to eat with their wine, all to prove their bravery. One cut, then another. In the end, both men died.

"Courage is indeed a knightly virtue, but using such a method of cutting one's own flesh and eating it to show one is brave is foolish. It is reckless courage. Not being cowardly in such a case is simply stupidity. These two warriors used their 'courage' in the wrong place. It was merely vanity, the arrogance of wanting to surpass another."

Gawain criticized the Green Knight's foolishness before everyone present, giving voice to the thoughts of many Knights of the Round Table.

These were the words they wanted to say but did not dare to speak.

Whoever agreed to play a game of mutual beheading with an immortal monster was an idiot. Yet under the demands of knightly ideals, they had no choice but to be morally coerced by him.

Courage was an indispensable virtue for a knight, especially after the Green Knight had bound that courage to the King's honor and the Knights of the Round Table.

All men must die; death may weigh heavier than Mount Tai or lighter than a feather.

The knights did not fear death. But dying for such a foolish game would inevitably invite ridicule.

Yet once this foolish game became tied to King Arthur's life and the dignity of the Arthurian dynasty, it became as heavy as Mount Tai.

"Why say so much? If you are afraid, I'll leave this place at once. Since you do not welcome me and will not accept my game of friendship, I'll spread word everywhere of how you dared not accept my challenge. Especially you, Prince Gawain. You are a coward who dared not accept a challenge, and your deeds will be sung by later generations forever."

Gawain's verbal attack did not affect the Green Knight in the slightest. This was not a world where being right could make everyone willingly submit.

In this turbulent and chaotic Dark Age, with famine and plague spreading, people barely surviving from one day to the next, the ideal king in people's minds was not the wise philosopher-king of Plato's Republic, but Cassivelaunus, who remained unyielding in the face of Caesar's invasion, or Conanus, who fought the Picts and Huns.

King Arthur, constantly waging foreign wars, had no choice but to govern through an order of knights. His long absences from state affairs for war ultimately caused the Arthurian dynasty's military achievements to far exceed its civil governance.

This King Arthur was like England's later King Richard the Lionheart.

He spent only half a year of his life in England itself. The rest of his years were either spent fighting or on the road to war, yet he was still the king people loved most.

Victory in war outweighed all other worldly affairs. Only war could protect the people. That was the reality of this era, and the ideal king in the minds of its people.

Demanding knightly courage in such a predicament was undoubtedly foolish, yet it was precisely this foolish knightly spirit that made knights defend the people and protect the kingdom.

This was the fairy-tale world of poems like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, a world that celebrated an idealized spirit of chivalry.

The one who had been wrong from the beginning was not the Green Knight, but Gawain.

Because this world's moral demands upon knights were almost harsh. Gawain, the perfect male protagonist, the Sun Knight, the maiden knight, had to measure himself against Jesus.

Thus, his realist criticism of the Green Knight lacked some persuasiveness.

Gawain raised his head and looked up at the Green Knight. "My opinion has not changed. Your game is foolish. You will not die after being beheaded, but humans are different. Therefore, your foolish game is fundamentally nothing but a deliberate attempt to make things difficult.

"You wish to witness our courage, but the price we pay is different. You will not die, while a knight knows he surely will. The game was unfair from the start.

"Precisely because your game is foolish, it is unfit for noble King Arthur and these knights, who are unmatched on the battlefield.

"Their lives should end on the battlefield or in their beds, not in this game.

"I am not a Knight of the Round Table. I possess neither their strength nor their wisdom, and I have even less courage. My life has no value. I am the weakest and most useless person here. Only someone like me can accept your challenge without reservation."

Gawain spoke calmly, his words filled with mockery for the Green Knight.

Arthur stared at Gawain in shock. He was so astonished that he could not speak. After a moment, he took Gawain's hand and said, "Gawain, do you understand this challenge? Think it through."

"I think I understand. I have received praise, respect from the world because of you, and honor because of you. That is why I must stand up to defend you. I have wasted my time and accomplished nothing, yet because my uncle is King Arthur, everyone has to respect me. In truth, aside from sharing your blood, I am nothing. So I cannot stand by and watch someone harm you."

Gawain spoke with a carefree expression. He had decided to accept his fate. The decision was sudden, but Arthur was his uncle after all. He could not cast his responsibility onto him. In the story, the Green Knight had originally been his opponent.

Even as a spoiled young man, though everyone in Camelot knew he was a false "knight" who relied on King Arthur's reputation, Gawain was still treated with respect.

"Gawain, don't say that. Don't belittle yourself like this. You are not a Knight of the Round Table. You are not even a knight yet. You can refuse this game."

Arthur looked stunned. He had never imagined his nephew Gawain thought this way, and it made him sad. He did not understand his nephew at all.

"No. This time, Gawain is not serving King Arthur. Gawain is fighting for Arthur. A nephew must protect his uncle. I will protect my family."

After saying this, Gawain walked up to the Green Knight. "I do not wish to use your axe. Noble Knights of the Round Table, would any of you lend me your sword?"

Gawain addressed the Knights of the Round Table present. Having already thrown away the axe, he could not pick it back up and use it. He was merely putting on a brave face.

Though he appeared fearless and condemned the Green Knight fiercely, the reason he had thrown down the axe was not the game's foolishness, but his fear. A moment ago, he had wanted to retreat.

The Knights of the Round Table watched everything unfold, but none of them moved. They merely watched, and no one lent Gawain a sword.