After walking through the farmland, Shirou and Kay arrived at the gate surrounding the town. Today, the atmosphere was different from the past as everyone impatiently made their way to the mountain outside the town.
The children rushed out noisily, while the adults hurried towards the mountain with their eyes shining with anticipation. Shirou and Kay quickly followed suit.
Along the way, some familiar people greeted Shirou, "Oh! Isn't this Guinevere? Are you here too? That's great! You're also a squire under Sir Ector. Maybe you'll have a chance to pull out the sword from the stone and become a king!"
Shirou smiled and responded to them, but he didn't take their remarks seriously. He knew the sword in the stone had already been predetermined and enchanted, so no one except Artoria could pull it out.
As they strolled along, he and Kay were greeted by numerous people.
Kay's spirits sank, and he couldn't help but ask, "You've only been here for a year, and for nearly nine months, you didn't even speak. So why is it that everyone greets you?"
Shirou chuckled and pointed his finger towards Kay's mouth. "Maybe because I don't have a foul mouth like you."
Kay was taken aback for a moment before pouting in annoyance. For some reason, he felt like snapping back at everyone except for Shirou and Artoria.
The two followed the crowd and made their way along the road towards the mountain, a wonder just outside of town. From afar, it resembled a square-shaped marble stone, not quite large enough to be considered a mountain. Yet, the locals called it Stone Mountain, as it was rumored to have an actual mountain buried beneath the stone's surface.
At some point, the two caught sight of a golden sword erected on Stone Mountain, its blade drawn from its sheath and glimmering brightly under the sun.
As the crowd continued to grow, an elderly man in priestly garb emerged from the crowd.
"Look, it's the Archbishop!" someone exclaimed, with others quickly echoing the sentiment.
"Today, the successor to the king will finally be chosen from among the knights!"
...
The crowd stirred with anticipation. Despite the northern kings forming a united front to keep Vortigern and the Saxons at bay, the crisis of survival had been pressing on the people of Britain, and fear pervaded their hearts. This fear grew even greater after the passing of King Uther.
Thankfully, Merlin had prophesied that someone would inherit King Uther's will, defeat Vortigern, and bring stability to the people. This prophecy brought a measure of peace to the hearts of the people as they waited for the appearance of the new king.
The knights, too, felt relieved by the prophecy, but also restless, wondering if they would be chosen as the new king.
And now, the day of selection has finally arrived!
The Archbishop gazed out at the restless knights from atop Stone Mountain and made a resounding proclamation, "Today marks the appearance of the successor to King Uther! This individual is the rightful heir to the throne of Camelot, embodying the very essence of the Red Dragon. It is he who will rally the Knights, defeat the White Dragon, and unite all of Britain! And lo, he shall arrive here today! So, I call upon you, knights of Camelot! Draw forth the sword! For this holy blade calls out for victory and serves as the one true testament of a king, surpassing even that of royal blood! Whosoever can draw forth this sword shall be deemed the one destined to rule Britain!"
"Draw the sword!"
"Draw the sword!" the crowd shouted.
...
The knights cheered in excitement, their eyes locked on the sword embedded in the stone. The sword was the key to the throne, and whoever drew it would become king.
On the appointed day, the ceremony to draw the sword began. The Archbishop raised his hand to silence the crowd, and all eyes were fixed on him.
"Let us pray," the Archbishop announced. "After the mass, we shall commence with the drawing of the sword."
The mass began, and everyone in attendance took part, except for Shirou, who smiled quietly and remained silent. He didn't want to disturb anyone, nor did he feel the need to pray. Despite his unorthodox behavior, nobody paid attention to him. All eyes were on the sword in the stone.
Once the mass was over, the knights were eager to try their luck at drawing the sword. When the Archbishop announced the start of the ceremony, the knights rushed forward one by one, each hoping to be the one to draw the sword from the stone.
The selection of the king had gathered a crowd of people, who were completely captivated by the drama unfolding before them.
One by one, the knights stepped forward with serious expressions on their faces. They placed their hands on the hilt of the sword and pulled with all their might, but to their great disappointment, the holy sword did not budge.
Some were unwilling to give up and attempted several times, while others shouted in frustration, "There must be something wrong with this!" There were even knights who tried to show off their strength, as if they could lift the entire rock along with the sword. But no matter how hard they tried, none of the knights could draw the sword from the stone.
Doubts and anxieties began to pervade the crowd. Were there no knights in the country worthy of kingship? Did Britain have no future? And yet, they couldn't help but wonder: was Merlin's prophecy truly accurate?
As disappointment settled in among the crowd, a golden-haired knight slowly emerged from the throng. He wore a gentle smile and exuded warmth and sunshine, which immediately caught the attention of those who recognized him.
"It's Gawain! He is the knight blessed by the sun!" they exclaimed with excitement. The news quickly spread throughout the crowd, who began to buzz with anticipation.
"Did you hear? He came all the way from Orkney!"
"Indeed, he is the prince of Orkney, blessed by the sun. Surely he is the one who can draw forth the sword of kingship!"
...
The crowd's hopeful anticipation turned towards Gawain as all eyes fell upon him. Known as the knight of the sun and the son of the great Orkney king, he was blessed with the radiant power of the sun. Surely, he was the one who could draw the sword from the stone!
With bated breath, the onlookers watched as Gawain confidently stepped up to the stone.
The palpable anticipation in the crowd did not go unnoticed by Morgan, who had been watching from the sidelines. As she observed the unfolding events, a faint smile began to play at the corners of her lips. Her plan to seize the throne was slowly coming to fruition.
However, the smile on her face was short-lived as Gawain made three attempts to draw the sword with all his might, but to no avail. The sword remained stubbornly lodged within the stone, and beads of sweat began to form on Gawain's forehead as he struggled to move it.
The hopeful expressions on the faces of the gathered crowd were quickly replaced by disappointment and frustration. Some even let out groans of despair.
Gawain shook his head in defeat and made his way back to Morgan's side.
"Did you give it your all?" she asked.
"I did my best, Mother."
Morgan looked up at the position of the sun and asked, "When you tried to draw the sword, were you blessed by the sun?"
"Mother, I was blessed by the sun's radiance, but even so, I was unable to draw forth the sword. It seemed to be rooted in the earth and impervious to human strength."
"How vexing," Morgan muttered. "Could it be that Merlin used some tricks that I'm not aware of?"
She scrutinized the sword in the stone for several moments, but couldn't discern anything special about it. She was left completely befuddled.
Even Gawain, the knight of the sun, had failed to extract the sword from the stone, which only served to agitate and worry the gathered masses.
Sensing the growing unease of the people, the knights began to converse amongst themselves.
"No one has been able to extract it."
"Could it be that the sword is a fake?"
"Was Merlin's prophecy nothing more than an empty promise?"
"Why are we so fixated on this one method of choosing a king when we have so many knights gathered here? There are numerous ways to determine who should be the next king."
"You make a good point!"
...
With a resolution in mind, the knights set out to determine a new method for selecting the rightful king.
Given the abundance of knights present, there were numerous effective ways to choose a ruler. They resolved to identify the most exceptional knight by testing their strength, crowning the one who emerged victorious as the King of Knights, and thereby, the ruler of the land.
The knights had ceased to concern themselves with the sword embedded in the stone, turning their attention instead to the task of selecting the most suitable candidate for the throne. Their first method was a horseback battle, the spear charge being the natural way to evaluate the abilities of the truly honorable knights.
Kay was eager to showcase his skills, but had forgotten his spear, and Artoria had yet to return. Frustrated, he gritted his teeth and watched as the other knights engaged in combat.
"What if we try to extract the sword too?" Kay suggested.
"Forget it. They may not know the full story, but we do. The sword is meant for Artoria, and no one, not even us, can remove it," Shirou replied.
"What harm is there in taking a closer look? We're already here, and we might as well inspect Artoria's sword while we have the chance," Kay countered.
"I'm bored standing around as well. Why not?" Shirou agreed.
The two of them ascended the stone mountain, but at this point, nobody was paying attention to it. The knights were busy engaging in horseback battles, while the onlookers watched in anticipation, eager to witness the crowning of the next Camelot king.
Kay gazed at the sword lodged in the stone and attempted to extract it with all his might. But like those before him, he was unable to budge it.
The sword that had appeared here was a part of Uther's plan to crown Artoria as the rightful king of Camelot, predetermined long ago. Given this, how could there be any flaw in the plan?
"It's strange. The sword doesn't feel especially heavy, yet it won't budge. Give it a try," Kay motioned towards the sword stuck in the stone.
"Ah... what's the point? This sword..." Shirou muttered half-heartedly as he made a weak attempt to pull out the sword.
"Crack!"
With a gentle tug, something suddenly gave way in his hand, and the weight of the sword increased dramatically.
Shirou mechanically turned his head to look at the sword in his hand, gaping in disbelief.
He was left stupefied by his own actions. He had done the impossible and pulled the sword out of the stone! His face became rigid as the reality of the situation dawned on him.
Kay, who had been observing Shirou's attempts up close, also wore a stunned expression, his smile frozen in disbelief.
The knights who had been battling for the throne were equally flabbergasted, and the faces of the crowd mirrored their shock.
Gawain, Morgan, and Artoria, who had arrived on horseback, looked on in confusion as Shirou held the sword aloft. Even Merlin, who had arrived at his leisure, wore an expression of bewilderment.
"What... What the heck is this?!" Shirou exclaimed, his face twisted with disbelief as he stared at the sword in his hand.
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