Chapter 82: King Arthur Pendragon
Chapter 82:
Leon didn’t wait for Yeon to recover though, stepping through the billowing dust and dashing towards him once more at blinding speed, with his golden blade aimed directly at his brother’s exposed neck.
Yeon shivered where he lay on the cold pavement, his entire life flashing rapidly before his eyes as the gleaming tip of Excalibur surged toward his throat.
As Leon’s blade was about to reach his neck though, it suddenly came to a halt. The glowing edge froze mere millimeters away from Yeon’s throat, hovering motionless in the air as if held back by an invisible, impenetrable wall.
Leon’s eyes widened at the sudden loss of control over his swing, his mind racing to understand why his arm refused to move forward.
’Enough!’ A deep, resonant voice echoed directly in his head, coming from Excalibur itself.
He recoiled inwardly at the overwhelming presence of the voice, holding his breath as he thought in disbelief, ’What? Excalibur...?’
He had never heard the legendary weapon reach out or communicate with him so clearly before, nor had he ever experienced the sword actively resisting his intent.
Everything around him suddenly froze in place, transforming the frantic battlefield into a static, motionless display.
From Yeon trembling on the ground with wide, terrified eyes to his father clutching his bleeding shoulder socket behind him inside the ruined building, every single human figure was locked completely still.
Even the thick smoke drifting in the air and the sparks flying from the burning structural beams went completely still, suspended harmlessly in mid-air like someone had just pressed pause on a movie.
The crackling fires ceased their flickering, the wind died down entirely, and an eerie, absolute silence settled over the shattered plaza.
Leon looked around at the frozen world in confusion, his jaw tightening as he muttered, "What is this... is this an attack?"
The divine voice spoke directly from Excalibur once again, vibrating through his mind with cold, unyielding disappointment that made his soul tremble: ’I’ve had enough of this... you’re unworthy.’
The words carried an absolute authority, cutting straight through Leon’s arrogant pride like a jagged glass blade.
Before he could even respond to the harsh declaration, the ruined guild around him started to disintegrate into nothingness, the shattered concrete walls, burning pillars, and sky dissolving into fine particles of glowing dust.
Everything faded away in seconds, until he was left standing completely alone in a large, vast room of absolute darkness.
Leon immediately dropped into a sharp, low fighting stance, gripping the hilt of Excalibur tightly in his hand while glaring into the surrounding abyss, his voice echoing loudly as he shouted, "Unworthy? What are you even talking about?"
His dark eyes burned with intense anger, refusing to accept the judgment of the weapon that had granted him his revenge.
The darkness around him suddenly lit up with a brilliant, blinding radiance that washed away the shadows in every direction.
A majestic, handsome golden-haired man sitting on a large, intricately carved golden throne appeared directly in front of him.
The man had a pair of almost ethereal golden eyes that seemed to glow with divinity, piercing straight through the darkness.
He carried a weird, deeply charismatic aura around him, an irresistible presence of royalty and unshakeable power that filled the entire room, commanding respect without him even lifting a finger.
Sitting on his head was also a very beautiful golden crown, shimmering with flawless craftsmanship and precious gemstones.
However, what caught Leon’s attention the most was not the royal crown or the man’s striking appearance, but the glowing golden sword stabbed deep into the ground directly in front of his throne.
The sword was none other than Excalibur itself, the exact same holy weapon he had been wielding to tear through his family’s guild and cut down his father.
Leon glanced down at the Excalibur held tightly in his own hand, checking its familiar hilt and burning edge, then looked right back at the identical sword stabbed into the floor in front of the strange man.
He grew even more confused about what was going on, his mind spinning as he tried to comprehend how two legendary blades could exist in the same space.
His eyes narrowed into a tight slit as he maintained his fighting stance, his breathing shallow as he glared at the royal figure on the throne.
He gripped the hilt of his weapon even tighter, his throat dry as he muttered, "Who... are you?"
The golden-haired man chuckled softly at the question, his light laughter echoing gently across the darkness.
The soothing sound resonated deep within Leon’s chest, strangely calming his racing heart and easing his erratic pulse a little despite his intense anger and confusion.
However, that unnatural calming effect only made Leon far more terrified of this mysterious person standing before him.
The realization that this unknown entity could casually manipulate his emotional state and heart rate with a simple chuckle proved just how terrifyingly powerful and beyond his comprehension the figure truly was.
The golden-haired man lazily rested a hand on the arm of his grand golden throne, leaning his head back slightly with a relaxed, indifferent posture.
He looked down at the young swordsman with a knowing, subtle smile, his voice smooth and commanding as he said, "I think you know that already."
Leon’s lips parted slightly in pure disbelief, his chest heaving as he doubted the absurd words that were about to leave his own lips.
His mind fought against the legendary truth, yet every instinct in his body screamed that the impossible identity sitting right in front of him was the absolute reality.
He swallowed hard, forcing his trembling voice to speak through the heavy, divine pressure in the air as he then muttered, "King Arthur Pendragon."
Standing barefoot in the blinding light of the throne room, holding a duplicate of the legendary sword, Leon felt a cold sweat break out across his skin.
The grand revenge he had been pursuing with ruthless precision suddenly felt small and insignificant beneath the gaze of the true owner of Excalibur, who had just branded him completely unworthy of wielding the holy blade.