Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

"Hmm? Your sword is breaking, isn't it?"

Da Vinci's sharp eyes caught sight of the cracks on the Sword of End hanging at Alaric's waist. She immediately asked, "With cracks this big, how many more times do you think it can be used?"

Clang!

Alaric drew the sword and replied, "Probably one or two more times?"

To be honest, Alaric wasn't sure. Ever since the first crack appeared, the subsequent ones seemed to spread faster and faster. At this rate, being able to fight one or two more times was already optimistic.

"No, you only have one chance left, Sir Alaric."

Da Vinci's expression turned extraordinarily serious as she flatly denied Alaric's assumption. "The Knights of the Round Table were blessed by the Lion King. Similarly, this holy sword of yours can be seen as a blessing granted by the Lion King. But that blessing is nearly exhausted."

A blessing, huh...

Alaric was momentarily taken aback.

Indeed, the Sword of End was an artificial holy sword born under the blessing of the Lion King. It could be considered similar to the blessings bestowed upon Gawain and the others.

However, after several intense battles—especially against individuals like Gawain and the Lionheart King, both capable of severing the Grail—it was inevitable that the blessing would eventually shatter.

Moreover, the core material of the sword was inherently too fragile, a critical limitation that made the Sword of End unable to match the durability or potential of a true holy sword.

It would always remain a counterfeit.

"And even one use is a conservative estimate. Don't expect a sword this damaged to perform with the same power as it did when intact. The wear on the blessing aside, the structural integrity of the blade has also greatly diminished."

Da Vinci took the sword, examined it carefully, and concluded, "At most, it could manage a single fight on Gawain's level. No, even that might be pushing it.

This sword is simply too shoddy!"

At the end of her analysis, Da Vinci, the universal genius, couldn't stomach the lack of aesthetics in this artificially crafted holy sword.

It was nothing more than a crude counterfeit, relying solely on the Lion King's brute-force blessing to function.

"Ahhh, if it were me, I'd create a far superior holy sword or Mystic Code!

The Lion King was way too careless!"

Da Vinci looked incredulous. How could someone who had ascended to godhood, someone who could wield blessings so masterfully, end up creating something like this?

"Well, it's just a hastily made holy sword after all. It's not surprising that it's now at its limit, Miss Da Vinci."

Alaric chuckled helplessly.

A True warrior doesn't blame their circumstances.

If one doesn't complain, it simply means the environment isn't harsh enough.

At this final hour, Alaric wanted to give his best answer in his finest form. But the situation didn't permit it. There wasn't a weapon on this land that could meet his needs.

The Excalibur in Bedivere's hands might have been a good option, but Alaric wouldn't consider it.

At this moment, the Excalibur was tied to Bedivere's life. If Alaric forcibly took it, Bedivere would be overtaken by the passage of over a thousand years, dying in obscurity, burdened by regret and resentment.

That was not the ending Bedivere wanted—nor was it the one Alaric desired.

Just as he had said to Mordred, Alaric loved them all.

Though his love was warped, Alaric truly loved every Knight of the Round Table and all the people of this land.

Bedivere was, of course, included in that love.

At the end of the world, Alaric believed everyone deserved their proper farewell.

To die without regret.

To face the end of their second life without carrying unfulfilled wishes back into death—

How tragic that would be, like a scene from the apocalypse.

Just as Alaric would face his farewell, Bedivere too should face his, a farewell called redemption.

This was why Alaric had given up on taking the holy sword.

"But in that case, using True Ether won't be enough; you'll have to pour everything into it to match its former state—or surpass it slightly."

After recalculating the Sword of End potential with its current degradation, Da Vinci reanalyzed the True Ether required to augment it. She quickly came to an unsettling conclusion: "Your holy sword has declined across the board. Even with True Ether, the consumption is higher than I originally estimated. What could've been used twice is now only enough for one usage. Moreover, judging by the level of magic output you're channeling, the strain on the sword is immense. You won't be able to use it multiple times. Remember, Sir Alaric, you have only one chance."

I see…

Alaric trusted Da Vinci's warning completely. That being the case, the Sword of End could only be reserved for the final battle.

Once again, he was forced to return to a meager lifestyle of borrowing swords wherever he could.

Helplessly, Alaric took back the sword and said with a wry smile, "Miss Da Vinci, I'll keep your advice in mind."

"Good luck!"

Da Vinci winked with a smile, patted Alaric on the shoulder, and then turned back toward the workshop, where she rejoined Paracelsus in crafting the True Ether with the Holy Grail.

The inclusion of the Holy Grail caused the mana density in the atmosphere to skyrocket.

After confirming the progress of the True Ether's production, Alaric didn't linger to chat with Da Vinci. With basic intel exchanged, he swiftly left the village and headed into the wilderness.

...

As the sun reached its zenith, the temperature in the wasteland peaked. Waves of heat rolled across the barren land.

Eventually, Alaric saw the fortress—a copper and iron stronghold—standing in the wilderness.

It was the mightiest fortress, led and built by Agravain.

Without slowing down, Alaric walked straight toward the front gate, not bothering to sneak or disguise himself.

"Lord Alaric—"

The Enforcement Knights stationed at the gate immediately recognized Alaric's face. They saluted him with respect and opened the gate.

As a Knight of the Round Table, Alaric was well-known among the Enforcement Knights. Many of them had even been recruited into the order by him.

"Hey, everyone. Is Sir Agravain inside right now?"

Alaric greeted them casually, throwing out the question mid-conversation.

"Yes, Lord Alaric. Lord Agravain is here. He's currently interrogating the Hassan."

One of the Enforcement Knights responded with deference.

"So, he's here—"

Alaric clicked his tongue.

Regardless of Agravain's presence, Alaric was determined to take Serenity away.

And he was confident. Unless Gawain came to stop him, no one here could stand in his way.

Clang!

The sound of a blade being drawn echoed.

"I'll be borrowing your sword."

Alaric unsheathed the Enforcement Knight's sword right in front of him, smiling as he said, "I'll return it later."

Without waiting for a response, Alaric strode into the fortress, heading straight for the underground prison.

None of the Enforcement Knights dared to stop him along the way. They had no choice but to let him pass.

Within minutes, Alaric once again laid eyes on Serenity's long-unseen figure.

Her petite form was bound in chains, like a beautiful but deadly poisonous flower.

"Miss Serenity, it's been a while."