"Huh?"
I stared at Arthur.
"What did you say?"
He tilted his head.
"Which Divine Instrument will you choose?" he asked again.
Looking at the assortment of deadly toys around us, I asked him. "This is my reward?"
He simply nodded. "You have the right to claim a Divine Instrument."
Oh.
I walked around the Armoury, my eyes falling on the many strange and wonderful objects kept inside glass cases.
Some of the cases were empty, indicating that their weapons had already been claimed.
Swords, daggers, bows, spears, guns, and other fantastical weapons and instruments loomed before me.
Some looked ancient yet meticulously preserved, while others possessed the sleek profiles and intricate designs of modern weapons.
Others, like Carnwennan, barely looked like weapons at all, resembling alien, abstract concepts.
I even saw a handkerchief that glowed with an eerie blue light.
Even Arthur seemed keen on keeping his distance from that one.
As I wandered around, my eyes fell on something that stopped me in my tracks.
"It can't be…"
It wasn't the one I was searching for, but it still caught my attention.
I slowly approached a pedestal larger than the others.
And for good reason.
A large, uneven stone rested upon it, its surface weathered by time.
And from the stone itself rose a sword.
The white blade had a faint golden hue that shimmered beneath the soft lights above, seamlessly meeting a cross-shaped hilt of pure silver.
A pointed pommel completed its elegant design.
I didn't need to read the plaque.
I knew that sword.
"Caliburn," I whispered.
For a moment, I simply stared at it.
I had seen this sword before.
Not in this world.
Not behind glass.
I turned toward Arthur as he casually approached me.
Our eyes met.
"The Sword in the Stone."
My gaze returned to the blade.
"The sword that made you king."
I studied his face as he stared at the mythical sword, searching for some semblance of recognition. Some hint of memories.
Nothing.
I saw only the cold, indifferent facade of the High King, staring at a sword that seemed to mean nothing more to him than a weapon.
"The sword that made me king," he repeated my words before looking at me. "Is that the story everyone is saying?"
I shrugged. "It's what I heard in the Shield."
A slight raise of his eyebrows was the only reaction I got from him. He closed his eyes and nodded.
"Deathwalkers are amazing storytellers."
I gave him a curious glance. "So that wasn't what happened?"
"Oh no." Arthur shook his head. "Only the one worthy to sit on the Black Throne could pull out that sword, and I did pull it out."
He shrugged.
"But so did a few of my predecessors. For some reason, only my story was passed down, and even that was embellished."
I stared at him.
That wasn't how Arthur became king in my old world.
I looked back at Caliburn.
So Arthur wasn't the only one the sword had chosen.
Interesting.
"If Caliburn is here," I said, shooting him a glance, "then your current main weapon…"
"Is Excalibur," Arthur answered with a stiff nod.
He opened his palm.
Tiny black orbs swirled above it, gathering together as if drawn by an invisible force. They collided and merged, stretching into a long, dark shape.
My entire body shivered.
The sword fully formed in Arthur's grip.
A double-edged, elegant blade of the darkest black shimmered beneath the soft lights. Runes etched into its surface pulsed with a constant golden glow, almost like a heartbeat.
Its hilt and handle were engraved with intricate designs resembling flowing water, while a thin black chain was wrapped tightly around them.
The chain slowly disintegrated as I watched, as if it couldn't withstand the sword's existence.
My gaze remained fixed on it.
Caliburn had looked like a sword worthy of a king.
This…
This looked like something entirely different.
Even while resting in Arthur's hand, Excalibur radiated a sharp, terrifying chill. The ambient Ardor around the blade wasn't merely disturbed.
It was being shredded.
I instinctively took a half-step back.
It was a stark difference from the Excalibur of my old world, which represented the majesty and duty of a king.
This black sword represented only one thing.
Absolute power.
"That kind of suits you," I remarked before asking, "Um. What's Excalibur's trait?"
Arthur lowered the sword, and I swear I heard the air hum as the ambient ardor was sliced by the black blade.
"Just as Rhongomyniad can pierce anything, Excalibur can cut anything," he explained. "It is a living sword. It can evolve and grow stronger, and its very existence is an embodiment of power."
That… is a bloody overpowered sword.
He noticed me gazing at the sword and tilted his head.
"Do you… want Excalibur?"
I looked between him and the literal nightmare fuel in his hand.
Is he willing to give me Excalibur?
Fuck no.
No way I am getting my hands on that deadly blade.
It's too scary.
I shook my head. "Tempting, but that sword is too overkill for my taste."
"Oh," he said simply and stowed the black sword away.
As he placed it back in his storage ring, I swear I heard the blade hiss, as if disappointed with my decision.
And so I continued my search in the Armoury.
If Carnwennan, Rhongomyniad, Caliburn, and Excalibur exist in this world as well…
Then surely…
I stopped in my tracks.
It was in the row right behind Caliburn.
A sword that bore an uncanny resemblance to Excalibur.
But where Excalibur had been black, this blade was silver, its surface etched with black runes. Its handle was white, decorated with intricate crimson designs.
Instead of a chain, a small halo-like ring of silvery liquid hovered around the pommel.
As I approached, the black runes seemed to come alive, pulsing with a deep scarlet glow.
My heart pounded in my chest as I read the name on the plaque.
Clarent
My fingers pressed against the glass as I stared.
So this is the world's Clarent.
It was like seeing an old friend.
And as if reacting to my longing and presence, the sword hummed.
The glass vibrated beneath my fingertips, and the runes pulsed like a living heartbeat.
I felt Arthur's gaze settle on me.
I ignored it.
"The Sword of Peace," Arthur said as he approached beside me. "Excalibur's twin sword."
"As its name suggests, Clarent can nullify any attack, physical or mystical, with a mere touch of its blade," he explained. "It's the only weapon that can counter Excalibur."
His words faded into the background as I simply stared at Clarent.
He seemed to notice my gaze and closed his eyes.
"It appears you have made your choice, and so does Clarent."
As if responding to his words, the glass case split down the middle, its two halves sinking into the pedestal and revealing Clarent to the outside world.
Immediately, I sensed the air around the sword hum with a soft, musical resonance, like wind chimes swaying in a gentle breeze.
"This is too sudden," I muttered.
"Really?" Arthur tilted his head, his expression unchanged. "But you looked like you had already chosen."
Goodness, he is very observant.
I cannot deny it.
In my past life, Clarent was the only thing I ever really cared for.
For a knight, their sword was their most trusted companion.
I had seen many warriors and knights lament the shattering loss of their weapons in battle.
I had seen many of them die after being betrayed by their own weapons.
Fortunately, I never got to experience that kind of loss.
Even during my final moment on Earth, Clarent had stayed by my side.
In this world, the absence of Clarent had left a hole in me.
I had tried to fill it with my mother's Fangs, but it was never quite the same.
Make no mistake, I adore the Fangs. They had saved my life many times in the world.
But Clarent made me into the warrior that I am, in this world and my old world.
So without hesitation, I wrapped my fingers around the smooth handle of the sword and picked it up.
A small tingle ran up my arm upon contact, as if the sword itself were scanning my existence.
The runes flared into a deep crimson before settling into a steady pulse.
Then, as if adjusting to my body, the glow slowly faded, leaving the black runes standing out against the silver blade.
"Congratulations, Mordred," Arthur said. "You have now claimed Clarent. Its ability to nullify depends on the wielder's willpower."
He gave me a knowing glance.
"With the power of your will, I have no doubt you will be able to nullify even the gravest of dangers aimed at you."
I studied the sword in my hand.
Its balance was incredible.
It was as if the weapon had been tailor-made for me.
I guess Divine Instruments are on a whole other level.
There was something else I noticed.
There was a subtle, flowing texture beneath my skin, as if a thin layer of fluid had settled between my fingers and the sword.
It was familiar.
I had felt something similar when I handled the Fangs after they were upgraded.
"Morphium?"
I looked at Arthur, who nodded.
"Indeed," he said. "I have modified most of the Divine Instruments with morphium. It is a versatile and intelligent material. You will be able to change Clarent's form with the help of morphium."
I ran my thumb along the handle, feeling the strange material beneath my skin.
"Is it okay to use morphium on them?"
"It's fine," he assured me. "Due to its extreme versatility, morphium can seamlessly integrate with the Divine Instruments without compromising their properties."
Casually crossing his arms, he continued.
"I found no reason why I shouldn't upgrade the Instruments with morphium. It is the future, after all."
I smiled. "You're right about that. Morphium is amazing."
"It will be quite useful for you," Arthur added. "Since you are gifted in using multiple weapons, you could change Clarent's form and still utilize its unique trait."
I nodded. "I'm going to have to program the morphium to change form."
"Guinevere can help you with that," he said. "She's an excellent Crafter."
"I guess I'll ask her," I replied, admiring the craftsmanship of my new sword.
Then I looked at Arthur and gave him a small nod.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
He merely shrugged. "It was your right to obtain a Divine Instrument, and you have proven yourself worthy of claiming one. I'm just doing my duty."
He said it with such a deadpan expression that I found it almost funny.
A low chuckle escaped me as I held the sword upright.
"Hello, Clarent."
I smiled.
"My old friend."