I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Chapter 127

Chapter 127

??????

Demon Hunting (1)

“Come to think of it, what exactly is a star?”

– A star is just a star. What else could it be?

‘A star… What is a star, really?’ Having gained two stars, Najin pondered their true nature. He wasn’t thinking about their symbolic meaning, he already understood that much.

‘A testament to achieving a great feat.’

A star was proof that one had overcome a seemingly impossible trial and accomplished something monumental enough to touch the heavens. It was also the reward for Najin’s life-risking efforts.

He looked at the two stars glimmering on his outstretched palm. By focusing, he could summon their starlight in such a way.

They were beautiful, no doubt, the stars he had yearned for so intensely.

Yet, how to describe the odd feeling?

Staring at them, Najin tilted his head. “How exactly do you use these?”

He couldn’t fathom any practical way to make use of them. In heroic tales, King Arthur supposedly cleaved the earth and sky with his star.

As Najin entertained such thoughts, Merlin scoffed.

– If two measly stars could split the heavens and the earth, Arthur and I would’ve long since taken the head of the Dragon of the Abyss and the Witch of the Nether!

“Well, I was just using it as an example. Still, isn’t having a star supposed to let you do magical things? The heroes in the stories seemed capable of everything.”

– The things you’re imagining require at least four or five stars. Only when the stars form a constellation do their powers amplify enough for such feats.

Merlin gestured in the air; a blue line traced the path of her movements.

– Besides, I can’t explain how to use your stars. Every constellation’s usage varies. Didn’t I tell you? A star is your life—your journey, encapsulated.

“You did mention that.”

– It’s like your imagination. No one can teach you how to wield it. Ultimately, you’ll have to figure it out on your own, but don’t worry—it’ll come naturally.

The blue line she had drawn formed her constellation.

Why was she suddenly showing her own constellation?

Having spent considerable time with her, Najin understood a bit of how Merlin’s mind worked.

‘Ah, a subtle attempt to show off.’ He was right. Merlin twirled her constellation ostentatiously before him. She never missed an opportunity to flaunt her accomplishments.

– Each star represents a great feat. Having eleven stars means I’ve achieved eleven monumental feats.

Merlin emphasized the number “eleven.”

Najin nodded politely, replying with a generic “Wow, that’s really something.”

After listening to her self-praise for a few minutes, the conversation finally turned constructive.

– Of course, having stars doesn’t necessarily equate to being strong. Having many stars doesn’t guarantee victory. Stars are simply a way of proving who you are.

“Proving?”

– Yes. They’re the marks of your journey, the paths you’ve walked, and the feats you’ve accomplished. They are your evidence and testament.

Merlin extended her hand to point out the window. Dawn had yet to break, and the outside remained dark. The night sky was strewn with countless stars.

In the past, such a sight had seemed distant and unreachable. Not anymore—Najin’s stars resided there.

Even among the countless stars, Najin could locate his own. Though faint, the two stars shone distinctly. They were his stars, his imprints in the heavens.

– You’ve engraved your existence in the sky as stars. As long as those stars remain aloft, you can look to the heavens from anywhere and find yourself.

Merlin smiled.

– Having even one star makes an immeasurable difference. You’ve stepped onto the starting line.

The starting line… There was no need to ask what the starting line was for.

– It’s the first step toward ascending the heavens.

Of course, that wasn’t all there was to it.

Merlin narrowed her eyes at Najin. He hadn’t noticed yet, but his body was already changing. It was a common phenomenon among those who had gained stars.

Merlin chose not to mention it. Such realizations weren’t something one could be taught; they had to be experienced.

– In any case, congratulations.

With that, Merlin added one last thing.

– The Star of Dawn.

The star heralding the end of night… Hearing his moniker pronounced aloud, Najin couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. The Star of Dawn… it had a nice ring to it.

“Now that I have the qualifications, all that’s left is to prove myself.”

That proof would not take place there but in the faraway lands of the Outland…

On the battlefield of stars.

Najin began preparing in earnest for his journey to the Outland. Unlike his trip to Cambria, where he could simply throw himself into the fray, heading to the Outland required some preparation.

More importantly, he had changed compared to the past.

When he first set foot in Cambria, he was a nobody—an unproven rookie whose very existence was unknown and to whom nobody paid any mind, but now? The Empire’s citizens, and even those beyond its borders, watched him closely.

He was the youngest Sword Seeker, the boy who had claimed two stars.

Fame came at a cost. Having earned renown across the continent, he was constantly under scrutiny. Everyone was curious about his next move.

That was exactly what the Emperor had feared.

?To my eyes, you are a flame.?

?A fire that might one day engulf the Empire.?

Najin was seen as both an asset and a potential threat. To some, he was a highly valuable piece—an irreplaceable card in their hand—but in the hands of an opponent, he was a weapon capable of devastation.

If they couldn’t possess him, the least they could do was prevent him from falling into someone else’s hands.

As countless factions monitored his actions, Najin made an announcement. “I plan to depart for the Outland soon.”

His declaration was simple: He had no intention of aligning himself with any group; he would leave the continent and head for the Outland.

The announcement sent ripples across the continent.

The Outland… what sort of place was it? Countless heroes ventured there to become constellations, only to perish. It was harsh, unforgiving, and barren: a land of trials that constantly flirted with life and death.

It was not the kind of place a promising young talent like Najin was expected to go. With his fame, he could have settled into wealth and comfort anywhere.

Why would an eighteen-year-old boy voluntarily head there? He wasn’t being forced into exile, nor was there a dire reason compelling him to go.

To this, Najin offered a concise reply: “Glory without hardship or trial is meaningless.”

He was quoting an ancient hero’s words. The phrase was famous, repeated by many over the years, but few truly lived by it.

Words were easy; action was hard.

‘Difficult, yes.’

– And that’s why it’s worthwhile.

Najin had no intention of becoming a pretentious loudmouth. After his declaration, he immediately began the formal process for departing to the Outland.

Some called him foolish, others said he was reckless, yet even those critics couldn’t deny that his actions echoed the heroism of a bygone era in how he forsook wealth and comfort to chase glory.

It might have been unwise, but it was not wrong. If anything, it was a decision deserving of admiration. The first to respond to Najin’s decision were the Imperial family and the Knights of Atanga.

“I commend the one who turns away from the comfort before him to face the crashing waves. I respect all your choices.” The Emperor praised Najin’s resolve.

“Charging into trials—this is the decision of one who understands pride. Forsaking wealth to pursue honor—this is the decision of one who values glory. One who knows pride and honor is the perfect role model for any knight.” The Knights of Atanga response was so enthusiastic it was as if they were itching to knight him on the spot. However, they held back, knowing that a certain promise had already been made.

The Emperor had once declared that, the day Najin fulfilled the vow he had made before the three Sword Masters, he would personally bestow upon him the title of ‘Free Knight’.

The title carried immense significance and harkened back to the original Knights of the Round Table who had followed King Arthur. Unlike the watered-down term “knight” that had lost much of its weight over the centuries, the title retained its gravitas even after a thousand years.

To have such a title promised to him was monumental.

All that remained was for Najin to prove himself worthy.

The Knights of Atanga waited with bated breath for the day to come. It would be the first time in centuries that a Free Knight had been recognized. They salivated at the thought.

As soon as the Imperial Family and the Knights of Atanga made their positions known, others quickly followed suit, clamoring about how admirable Najin’s choice was. However, their voices lacked sincerity. Most were simply jumping on the bandwagon, eager to align themselves with the prevailing sentiment.

Najin paid them no heed.

He let the empty words go in one ear and out the other as he focused on his preparations for the Outland, but not all the voices could be ignored.

“N-Najin!” The door to his room burst open, and someone rushed in—Dieta Arbenia, the girl with the beautiful brown hair.

After delivering a bold confession of love to Najin a few days prior, Dieta had spent the subsequent days avoiding him, too embarrassed to face him. There she was, seeking him out? Could it be that she had finally overcome her shyness?

“A letter has arrived for you. Normally, I’d handle these things myself, but this one… this one, I couldn’t.”

Judging by her continued refusal to meet his eyes, that wasn’t it. Whatever the case, something serious had prompted her visit. She handed Najin a letter.

‘Thorns?’ The letter bore the crimson thorned emblem of the Starblood Sect, but there was more. Across the thorned emblem was sketched the image of a single sword entwined in blood-red thorns.

There was only one person who used such a seal: the Starblood Sect’s High Executioner, the Inquisitor General of the Starblood Sect; the Champion of the Thorned Martyr, among other names.

It was Yuel Razian’s symbol.

Yuel Razian wiped her blade clean, running her fingers over the clotted blood sticking stubbornly to the blade, exhaling deeply. Her breath was hot, and her crimson eyes glimmered with an unsettling sheen.

…Ordinarily, it was rare for a Sword Master’s blade to be stained with blood.

What was a Sword Master? They were transcendents who could unleash Sword Aura as effortlessly as breathing, slashing enemies from tens or even hundreds of meters away.

Wrapped in that aura, their blades were impervious to external contaminants. Even if something were to stain the blade, it would be vaporized instantly by the heat of their Sword Aura.

Thus, a Sword Master’s blade being bloodstained was practically unheard of. The phrase “a Sword Master’s blade is stained with blood” was often used metaphorically, symbolizing the deaths caused by their blade rather than any literal blood.

When the Sword Master in question was Yuel Razian, the phrase lost its figurative meaning—her sword was perpetually drenched in blood.

There was a simple reason: Yuel deliberately chose not to use Sword Aura.

Though she could kill her opponents more easily and efficiently by wielding it, she refrained. When asked about her peculiar choice, Yuel had once given an answer to her knights.

“Where’s the joy in cutting down an enemy with sword aura? Don’t you feel it? The sensation of your blade slicing through flesh, snapping bone, and tearing into organs until it bursts out the other side… The vibration that travels up the hilt… That’s when I truly feel alive.’

For her, it all came down to the visceral thrill of it.

Her justification was as simple as that. Since few could withstand her Sword Aura anyway, Yuel preferred to savor the experience, prolonging the moment much like savoring a candy before letting it melt away.

‘Isn’t that disrespectful to your opponent?’ Some knights had wanted to ask, but they never dared. After all, Yuel’s blade only ever cut down the guilty—heretics, sinners, and those tied to the demonic. When it came to such evildoers, wasn’t it better to offer no mercy?

Of course, Yuel herself didn’t care about such notions.

Her sense of morality was nebulous at best.

Yuel didn’t particularly view dark mages or heretics as heinous criminals. She didn’t kill them because she believed they were evil, she simply killed them because she could do so without consequence.

“Haa…” Yuel let out a heated sigh. The air around her reeked of blood. Smiling faintly, she plunged her blade into a pile of corpses to hold it steady. She then retrieved a letter from her pocket.

The letter contained news about a boy.

Her subordinate had collected the information for her.

Yuel’s crimson eyes narrowed as she read the details of the boy’s accomplishments. Her lips curled into a smile. Even after rereading it, the content remained unchanged.

“Two stars at the same time, and at the age of eighteen? Remarkable. Truly remarkable, don’t you think?” Yuel spoke aloud.

She wasn’t talking to herself. Beside her lay a black mage with severed legs. The mage dragged himself along the ground, teeth chattering, desperately trying to crawl away from her.

“Isn’t it remarkable? Truly extraordinary. My judgment wasn’t wrong after all. He’s such an intriguing boy.” Without sparing a glance at the fleeing mage, Yuel muttered to herself.

The mage, terrified, interpreted her words as the ramblings of a lunatic. He didn’t think she expected an answer.

“You don’t agree?” Yuel had other ideas. “I asked you a question.”

“G-Gah… Haa…” The mage clawed at the ground with all his strength. His nails cracked and broke against the rough stone floor, his fingertips bleeding profusely. Still, he frantically dragged himself forward.

“Didn’t I ask you a question? Isn’t he remarkable? I don’t like repeating myself.” Yuel lazily flicked a finger in the mage’s direction.

In that instant, the mage’s fingers began to crumble, starting at the tips. His nails cracked, skin peeled away, and bones splintered as if he were being dissected alive.

“AAAAAAAHHHHH!” The mage screamed as his body was systematically dismantled.

Yuel remained unmoved, repeating her question. “Isn’t he remarkable?”

“Yes, yes! Remarkable! Extraordinary! Unparalleled! A feat without equal, a glory beyond compare…” The mage scrambled to praise the boy he had never seen, spouting every flattering word he could muster. He continued until blood loss stole his voice, and his breathing grew ragged.

As his life finally ebbed away, Yuel tilted her head and murmured, “Yes, quite so.”

She nodded, seemingly pleased.

“Now, I’ll have to see for myself.”