The three of them stood in front of Chief Kevin's wooden house. When he opened the door, the cup in his hand trembled, spilling coffee onto the ground.
Kevin stared in shock at the Holy Sword in Arwen's hand. "Y-You… you finally pulled it out?!"
As the strongest wizard among the elves, Arwen had always been the most likely candidate to draw the sword.
"No… it wasn't me." Arwen shook her head, then stepped aside and gestured toward Sean behind her. "It was him."
Sean maintained a calm smile in response to Kevin's burning gaze. He could fully understand the shock Kevin was feeling.
"You're not joking?" Kevin asked seriously.
"He drew the sword. This is the ancestor's sacred blade—how could I joke about something like that?" Arwen replied.
Kevin fixed his eyes on Sean. Those deep, aged eyes seemed to pierce straight through him, giving Sean an unsettling feeling, as if he were being examined from the inside out.
This was an innate elven ability—a form of perception magic that didn't require any spell structure. It allowed them to sense another's magical power directly.
Much like how Cleven could transform into a giant bat, an innate ability different from Animagus transformation—it required no long preparation or training. Once awakened, it simply existed.
Kevin carefully sensed the magic within Sean. Though young, his magical power exceeded expectations. Kevin stepped down from the wooden stairs and grasped Sean's hand.
After a moment, he spoke. "Both your magical power and density are inferior to Arwen's. So why can you draw the sword… and she cannot?"
The elves did not understand the true mechanism Selwyn had placed upon the sword. Some believed it chose those with strong willpower, while others believed it depended on magical power and density. Kevin clearly belonged to the latter group.
In truth, they were close—but the threshold was far beyond their imagination. Among the descendants of the ancestors and Earth's humans, no one could reach that standard.
Even the elves, who preserved the closest bloodline to Selwyn, were not pure. Selwyn himself had been the only true pure-blood elf—his descendants were already mixed with human lineage.
Arwen, however, held a different view. "It's not necessarily about magic. Perhaps it was his spirit… that moved the sword."
Kevin didn't argue further. Instead, he looked directly at Sean. "How did you draw it?"
Sean scratched his head. "I… just pulled it out."
Though Selwyn had spoken to him briefly at the moment he drew the sword, even Sean didn't fully understand how he had passed the magical test. If anything, he could only guess it had something to do with his Magic vision.
The three of them stared at him. Clearly, that wasn't the answer they wanted.
But regardless of the reason, the fact remained—the sword had been drawn.
"We must follow the ancestral law," Arwen said firmly. "The one who draws the sword is recognized by our ancestor and by the sword itself. He is our leader."
Even she had struggled to accept it at first, but as Selwyn's direct descendant, she had no choice but to uphold his will.
"He is just a child—and a human. How can he lead the elves?" Kevin countered.
"If he was chosen by the ancestor, then there must be a reason. Are you questioning the ancestor's judgment?" Arwen pressed.
Invoking Selwyn left Kevin momentarily speechless.
"This concerns the fate of our entire race," Kevin said after a pause. "The decision must be made by all. I will summon everyone to the altar immediately."
Sean felt a chill. This was escalating quickly. What if the elves split into factions over this? If conflict broke out, he would be the cause.
Kevin snapped his fingers. A colorful butterfly appeared at his fingertips. As it fluttered into the air, it split into two, then four, then dozens—until hundreds of butterflies scattered in every direction throughout the forest.
Earlier, when Sean had spoken with Linda about wands, he had assumed elves simply excelled at wandless magic. But Linda had been surprised—elves didn't use wands at all.
Though Sean hadn't asked Selwyn about it, he could roughly infer that the wizards of the Golden Adventure Group—the original ancestors—didn't use wands either. Wands were inventions of later generations, tools created to aid weaker magic.
This also suggested that magical talent had declined over time. While the elves experienced this decline as well—evident in their shortening lifespans—it was far less severe than among humans.
Humans reproduced rapidly, accelerating the dilution of their magical bloodline. The elves, living in isolation, had preserved theirs much better.
"That Ogadis… Dumbledore said he defeated him without a wand too. Maybe he's a direct descendant of the Golden Adventure Group," Sean speculated.
Half an hour later, the elves gathered at the altar.
When they saw the Holy Sword in Arwen's hands, excitement spread across their faces.
"Arwen, just as expected!"
"What does it feel like to hold the sword?"
"Are those two humans new? Someone's partner?"
"The younger one's fine… but the older one? Even with the Elixir, that's pushing it."
The elves chatted among themselves.
Of course, Arwen hadn't drawn the sword—she had no idea what it truly felt like. To her, it felt no different than usual, just carrying a faint, familiar warmth.
As for Sean, despite being the one who drew it, he hadn't sensed anything extraordinary yet. Still, he believed the sword simply hadn't awakened for him.
According to Selwyn, the Golden Sword possessed immense power and two distinct forms. Sean was far from being able to use it properly.
"Everyone, quiet down," Kevin said, casting an Amplification Charm so his voice carried clearly.
"The one who drew the sword was not Arwen… but this human—Sean Grylls."
"What?!"
The crowd erupted instantly.
Over two hundred pairs of eyes turned toward Sean. He was just a human child—how could he possibly draw the sword?
Everyone present, even the youngest children, had tried before. The result had always been the same.
Under such intense scrutiny, even Sean felt a bit uncomfortable.
"Professor… I think I've caused a bit of trouble," he whispered to Dumbledore.
"No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side," Dumbledore replied calmly.
The truth could not be denied—Sean had drawn the sword. By ancestral law, he should become the leader of the elves.
But the clan was divided.
Half, led by Chief Kevin, opposed the idea of a human child ruling them. The other half, led by Arwen, insisted on honoring the ancestral law.
According to Selwyn's original design, this division should never have happened. Whoever could draw the Golden Sword would be undeniably powerful—someone worthy of both obedience and tradition.
But Sean only fulfilled one of those conditions.
And so, for the first time in their history, half the elves were willing to defy their own ancestor.
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