Before leaving, the mask of a false smile settled over Merlin's face once more. He patted Sovell on the shoulder without a word.
Then his figure scattered into countless motes of light, leaving only a lily petal to drift away on the wind.
As for whether there was truly a choice in this matter?
Of course Merlin knew-
Everyone present.
No matter who they were.
None of them had a choice.
The next day, King Liens once again organized an assault on Kerimud City.
The previous night, his scouts had brought him word that the King of Knights had arrived to reinforce Kerimud City. But he had made no changes to his siege plans, keeping his original deployment.
Liens understood that, although his divine ancestry was genuine, he had absolutely no legitimate claim to kingship.
To make up for that, he had even stooped to embarrassing himself by digging the Albion Creation Legend out of popular storybooks to support his claim.
Every time he thought of this, Liens could not help shaking his head and sighing.
There was no helping it.
The previous Great Dragonhead, the late King Uther, had commanded immense prestige. Along with Uther himself, Merlin's Red and White Twin Dragons Prophecy had become deeply ingrained in people's hearts.
And now, atop the city wall before his battle lines, the figure wearing a lion-headed helm was none other than the fabled Red Dragon, the symbol of holiness and radiance.
But when all was said and done.
"Caliburn, the Sword of Selection, is only a ceremonial sword. Beneath this blade, even a higher-ranking Holy Sword would be swallowed by its flames, wouldn't it..."
As he spoke, Liens reached for the enormous weapon behind him, nearly two meters in length.
As though merely mentioning it could grant him absolute