The fairies living in Avalon could not possibly be targeted.
Arthur, having come to this conclusion, suddenly fell silent.
After all, this meant the primary goal of the journey had failed. It wasn't that there was no gain—whether it was talents like Skadi, the Roman spy villages, or a general understanding of the people's attitudes, these were all necessary for Arthur.
But none of these compared to the goblins, whose wisdom, magic, and secret treasures were crucial for Camelot's future and their own journey to the end.
Trying to use rhetoric or coercion to make the fairies surrender? Arthur was not so naive.
Avalon was a pure land where fairies lived without worry, but if they stepped out onto the surface of the planet, destruction awaited.
Who else would choose to leave Avalon?
If the fairies still followed Arthur after knowing this, he would despise them—not for bravery, but for foolishness.
In other words, if the elves had the courage and awareness to face destruction, they would not be hiding inside Avalon now.
Apart from fairies, were there other intelligent imaginary races in the British Isles willing to communicate?
Yes: the giants.
Unfortunately, unlike the fairies who escaped to Avalon in spirit form, the giants could only remain on the planet's surface, awaiting the final judgment. Their thinking was more simplistic and crude. They blamed the passing of the Age of Gods and their own demise on humans.
If humans hadn't become the most intelligent creatures on Earth, the Age of Gods would not have faded.
If the era of human civilization hadn't arrived, they wouldn't have to perish.
Therefore, the remaining giants were filled with hatred toward humans.
The conflict between humans and giants could no longer be resolved through simple communication.
Once they met, it would be a fight to the death.
"In the end, everyone must fend for themselves. Humans can only rely on themselves," Arthur sighed.
It could hardly be a worse ending.
With these thoughts, his enthusiasm for the Holy Sword of the Star waned.
"Now that we're here, if possible, let me try it. Merlin, though, I'm not sure I can be recognized."
If it was just a sharp weapon, there was no problem.
"That's right. Since we've arrived, it would be a shame not to try. And I assure you, if it's you, the Holy Sword will recognize you. You are worthy," Merlin said confidently.
Gawain, however, was the only one still oblivious.
All he understood was: "Oh! My king can get another powerful weapon? After the Sword of Selection, now the Holy Sword of the Star—it sounds so powerful!"
"Well, Arthur is very powerful," Skadi said, stroking Arthur's head gently.
For her, the holy sword and fairies were irrelevant. Her greatest joy was simply to spoil the cutest human being every day.
"Merlin, how long until we reach the Holy Sword?" Arthur asked, eager to return soon.
There was no point lingering outside anymore.
"Don't worry—we're already deep inside. They'll find us on their own," Merlin smiled, standing and raising his wand to emit magic power. "As agreed, I bring the candidates for the Holy Sword of the Stars!"
Buzz—
The earth trembled slightly, and the scene before their eyes transformed instantly.
Vast areas of trees vanished, replaced by quiet lakes.
After a while, a pair of white hands emerged from the lake's center, holding an object wrapped in shining light, floating to the surface. The glowing object hovered gently as the hands slowly withdrew.
"Is that the Lady of the Lake?" Arthur frowned.
The Lady's attitude was clear: she was unwilling to meet Arthur and the others.
Come to think of it, even if they accepted humanity as the dominant species and hid away in Avalon, they probably bore some resentment toward Arthur—humanity's hand in ending the Age of Gods.
Even if the holy sword was offered now, their attitude toward Arthur was complicated.
"Yes, King. She has sent you the holy sword. Now all that's left is for you to forge it into shape and draw it. Then you will become the wielder of the Holy Sword of the Star," Merlin's expression grew serious.
Because with the sword's appearance came not just the Fairy of the Lake.
From this moment, Arthur and Camelot would be under intense scrutiny. Even Merlin grew nervous at the thought of Arthur drawing the sword.
Merlin waved his wand, creating a path of petals.
"My king, step forward and draw the holy sword."
"Forged into shape?" Arthur tilted his head, paying close attention.
This was important.
The holy swords of Artoria and the Old Sword looked entirely different and possessed vastly different powers.
Merlin explained patiently.
"It transcends all time and space. It is a wish no one else can fulfill—a beam of starlight, a shining holy sword that saves the stars. Forged from the planet beneath our feet, its original purpose is to repel the enemies of the planet, even the planet itself. Though it is a sword, its form will change according to the will of its wielder. For now, it remains pure light, waiting for you."
"So as a weapon itself, this sword is excellent." Arthur nodded, satisfied.
At the same time, his mind started racing.
If the Holy Sword of the Star changes form based on the wielder's image of the sword, then does that mean it becomes whatever you imagine when you draw it?
Frostmourne, Ashbringer, Blade of Sparta?
No matter the power, the main thing is that it looks cool!
Wait—whether I can even draw the sword is still a question.
Why worry about the shape?
Besides, why should I draw it? Such a powerful weapon is better suited for a fool. I'll be responsible for commanding and slacking off on the battlefield, while he goes up front to fight. Sounds perfect.
As king, shouldn't I watch brave warriors fight while I stay safe in the rear?
A gentleman doesn't stand under a dangerous wall, and a king even less so!
"Gawainqing, you go ahead. I believe you have the qualifications to become the Holy Sword Master of the Stars."
"Eh? Me? But isn't this the king's holy sword? You want me to draw the sword or something—" Gawain shrank his neck, a little afraid.
Even with ten times the courage, he wouldn't dare to take Arthur's things.
He remembered back in Camelot, whenever Morgan caught him, he'd be locked in a small dark room and indoctrinated with ideas like "Be loyal to little Arthur!" "When little Arthur is in danger, you must step up and block the knife!" "All good things belong to little Arthur!"
Though Gawain felt it was unnecessary to be taught such things, over time, putting the king first became instinctive—an obedience not to be broken.
Then—
"Ah! I suddenly feel dizzy. I am dead."
"······"
With an unconvincing act, the invincible Sun Knight collapsed.