The most melodious hymn

Of course, because Sovell's Rhongomyniad was an anchor used to secure the world's inner and outer layers, its normal form more closely resembled a spear or lance.

But Sovell did not want to wield the Holy Spear solely in its spear form. Using an ultradense mass of starlight as nothing more than a spear was far too wasteful.

Moreover, the Holy Spear's core was bound to him and under his control, and Invisible Air was closely linked to it as well.

Thus, he could control the forms of both the Holy Spear and Invisible Air. The next step was to increase the speed of transformation and shorten the intervals between changes.

Sovell's longsword technique had already reached its theoretical limit. Any further improvement would have to come through breakthroughs in actual combat.

His current goal was to learn how to use more types of weapons.

Lances, bows, shields, warhammers, poleaxes, sword-and-shield combinations, mounted spear techniques, mounted archery, and other such weapons and techniques were all directions Sovell intended to pursue next.

"Ah... there's no one left beside the Sword of Selection. There are so many people over at the riding grounds instead."

The girl looked into the distance and spoke softly.

Hearing this, the boy offered his assessment:

"Because the sacred Sword of Selection can no longer give them hope, they're now seeking their own ways to save the country. They are brave and steadfast knights."

"Brave... and steadfast."

Seeing her like this, the boy asked:

"Lia, have you made your decision?"

The girl fell silent.

Ever since she had been old enough to understand, she had spent each day dressed as a boy, learning swordsmanship and statecraft, relinquishing so much of what made her human.

What had it all been for?

There was no need to ask.

Everything had been for this day, for drawing the Sword of Selection that only she could draw.

The golden sword that symbolized certain victory-Caliburn.

This was the meaning of her birth as the Red Dragon who would protect Britain.

She had never seen the faces of her father, King Uther, or her mother, Queen Igraine.

The places of father figures in her memories had instead been filled by the incubus mage and the Old Knight.

Her father, King Uther, and the mage had shared the goal of creating an "ideal king."

And she was the one whose birth had been engineered to fulfill that goal.

Her late father's wishes or aspirations had given her neither motivation nor any particular feelings.

Nor did the mage's teachings concerning the "ideal king" inspire any strong sense of duty or accomplishment in her.

Throughout the more than ten years she could remember, what had encouraged and sustained her was Sovell's companionship in her dreams.

The quiet days she had spent with Ector and Kay.

The laughter of the townspeople during their celebrations.

It was not really longing or envy.

It was simply that, to her, such things seemed almost too... beautiful.

She would not wish to become one of the townspeople or join in with them. She would not entertain such fantasies.

Even when she sometimes imagined such scenes, she would soon lock them away in a box, as though preserving them-or sealing them off.

Because she knew, deep in her heart, that if she truly did such a thing, this single misstep now would lead to complete defeat in the future.

Ever since childhood, she had never considered herself particularly clever, but she had always worked desperately hard.

So she always told herself that she could never do that, and never would.

Just as humans were born bearing original sin.

A dragon, too, bore the duty entrusted to it!

The girl nodded, then asked the white-haired boy beside her, who was looking at her as he stroked the Demon Hound nestled in his arms:

"Sovell, will you stay with me all the way to the end?"

The boy smiled.

It was not a smile of arrogance or reckless conceit.

It was one of unwavering devotion and trust toward the person he loved, the sovereign he served.

He embraced the girl beside him, drawing her into his arms.

"Of course. I will always walk beside you, my king."

The two jumped down from the tree and headed toward the now-deserted Training Ground where the Sword of Selection stood.

The weather was not particularly good that day.

Whether it was because of the White Dragon's rampage at the River Severn yesterday or some natural cause.

From early morning until now, banks of dark clouds had blocked most of the sunlight.

Yet the moment the girl stood before the Sword of Selection, the clouds on the horizon parted.

With nothing left to obstruct it, the sunlight embraced the earth, free and joyous.

In an instant, the ground, yellowed by the Training Ground's withered grass, shone beneath the light like dazzling waves of golden wheat.

It was as though the entire world were celebrating the birth of the King of Radiance, offering him (her) its praises.

The girl bent down and traced the inscription on the golden sword before her:

"Whosoever draws this sword from this stone is by birth the destined king of Britain."

The Red Dragon girl straightened and grasped the hilt.

Behind her, the white-robed boy pushed back his hood and knelt on one knee, his right hand over his heart.

The clamor of the knights' tournament drifted from afar, yet all around the square stone, there was silence.

It felt much like... watching a celebration from a distance.

That feeling had not begun now. She had always stood outside the celebrations.

So it did not hurt quite so much.

The sword's hilt fit the girl's hand surprisingly well.

The inscription on the blade glowed, drawing out something that had surged within her body since birth and pulling it through the hilt into the blade.

The inscription dimmed, changing from shining gold to pure black.

All I need to do now is pull back my hand, and the sword will come free. Certain of this, the girl was about to raise her hand.

"Are you sure you want to take up that sword? I think you should give it more thought."

A voice they had heard countless times in their dreams sounded behind them, but neither turned around.

This was not a dream, but a reality that could not have been more real.

The voice continued trying to dissuade her:

"I wouldn't harm you, so don't do it.

Once you take up that sword, you will never be human again, right up to the very end.

And that's not all. Once you take it up, everyone will hate you, and you will ultimately meet a tragic death."

The girl's expression did not falter with fear as the mage had expected. Instead, it remained as calm as a lake.

She did not necessarily have to be the one to become Britain's king. But Britain, as it stood now, needed someone to shoulder all of this!

This was a ritual that would slowly kill her.

Kill the girl she was now, and forge the king she would become.

A king was someone who killed the greatest number of people in order to protect the people.

As king, she would relinquish much.

But at the very least, not at this very moment!

The girl answered the mage:

"I saw it."

Unable to see what the girl was doing, the mage heard her words and said:

"Then give up-"

"I saw so many people smiling. I believe that cannot be wrong."

The girl cut the mage off.

No matter how tragic the ending waiting at the finish, no matter how lonely the destruction.

The girl chose to shoulder it all.

Together with him.

"Son of Vortigern Pendragon, disciple of Merlin Ambrosius.

I, Sovell Pendragon, swear upon this lance!"

Behind the girl, the boy summoned Rhongomyniad, the Holy Spear that existed as a miracle in the hearts of Britain's people.

Dragon scales emerged on the boy's skin. His eyes became the slit pupils of a dragon, and his hands transformed into dragon claws.

With his left hand, the boy drove the Holy Spear into the ground, and with it as his witness, swore his own oath:

"I swear to serve my king unto death-

Artoria Pendragon.

To protect my king's people;

To defend my king's lands;

To carry out my king's commands;

To uphold my king's dignity;

To abide by my king's laws;

To correct my king's mistakes.

To serve my sovereign with loyalty;

To treat my friends with sincerity.

To uphold righteousness through kindness;

To subdue evil through force.

To stand ready at all times to sacrifice everything in defense of my country and my king.

Never to betray the one I love;

Always to follow my king."

The girl listened with a smile to the boy's oath to her, tightening her grip on the hilt.

The Sword of Selection came free.

The ringing of the blade scraping against stone echoed across the deserted Training Ground.

It was the most melodious hymn, offering its blessing to the birth of the New King and the oath of fealty.