"Failed again. Still no one can pull the sword."
Zahariel sat on a bench in the square, gazing toward the distant monolith.
Another knight jumped down from the great stone, his head hanging in disappointment. He was the seventeenth person to try that day.
Without exception, every attempt had failed. Otherwise, there would have been no need for anyone else to keep trying.
Half a year had passed since the destruction of the Order of the Wolf, and the Caliban Allied Orders had begun the final purge of the Northern Wilds.
During those six months, a constant stream of people continued arriving in Aldurukh every day.
Some were knights hoping to draw the sword.
Others were commoners and young nobles who simply wanted to witness the spectacle.
Every knight approached the Sword in the Stone with burning anticipation, imagining that if they could draw it, they would obtain glory beyond compare.
Yet to this day, the sword remained firmly embedded within the stone.
Even the young apprentices of the Order had been allowed to try with Master Ramiel's tacit approval.
But if even Caliban's most honored knights could not earn the sword's recognition, how could mere apprentices succeed?
It was both comforting and disappointing.
Comforting because none of them had been acknowledged, sparing them embarrassment.
Disappointing because none of them had been acknowledged.
On all of Caliban, not a single chosen one had appeared.
'Could anyone truly draw that sword?'
'Where had it come from?'
Zahariel couldn't understand.
Nemiel said, "Zahariel, I heard Brother Amadis's hunting party only killed three Great Beasts this week."
Zahariel shrugged.
"Be satisfied. Being able to find any Great Beasts at all is already fortunate."
The two of them had been relatively lucky.
Not long after the battle to capture the Wolf Knights' fortress, they had finally earned their own Trial.
They were granted permission to enter the Northern Wilds alone and hunt a Great Beast to earn their knighthood.
Although the trial had been extremely dangerous, both of them had succeeded.
The other knightly orders had been following the same practice, so countless apprentices had entered the Northern Wilds over the past six months.
Some became knights.
Some died in the wilderness.
Others still hadn't managed to kill a Great Beast.
Every day, knights rode into the forests to exterminate the remaining monsters.
Each day they returned with fewer trophies than before.
Even the Amadis brothers had managed only three Great Beasts.
And that wasn't one squad's tally.
That was the combined achievement of an entire hunting force consisting of dozens of knights.
Even Sir Lion had stopped participating in the hunts.
He had already earned more than enough glory.
Now he wished to share opportunities for honor with others.
That only made the knights admire him even more.
Zahariel was no exception.
If Sir Lion hadn't stepped aside to give others a chance, he himself might never have caught the last opportunity to become a knight.
Before long the remaining Great Beasts would vanish forever.
The apprentices would eventually receive a new rite of promotion.
But the knightly orders had yet to establish a unified standard.
Time, however, never stopped moving forward.
The age was changing.
They couldn't remain where they were forever.
The world was undergoing tremendous transformation.
Zahariel was gradually adapting to it.
Young men like him, born during the transition between old and new, often adapted more easily than the veteran knights.
As they chatted, Atias came sprinting over, panting heavily.
"Zahariel! Nemiel! Hurry! We're assembling!"
Nemiel asked, "Something happened?"
"It's the hunt!"
"Sir Luther has summoned every knight!"
"This will be the final hunt!"
Nemiel felt his heart skip a beat.
'So, it was finally happening.'
He turned toward Zahariel.
The excitement on his cousin's face was impossible to hide.
The two hurried toward the stables, where the Master of Horse had already prepared the finest steeds.
The horses were broad-backed, powerfully built, bright-eyed every one of them was a magnificent warhorse.
The formation assembled quickly.
Under Sir Lion's leadership, they departed the city.
Hundreds of mounted knights stretched into a winding column, the thunder of hooves echoing endlessly.
The veteran knights rode at the front.
The full knights occupied the center.
The squires and apprentices formed the rear guard.
Though their equipment was somewhat inferior, the determination in their eyes was no less fierce.
Nemiel whispered, "Don't you think it's strange, bringing this many people into the wilderness?"
In previous campaigns, even during the fiercest battles, Sir Lion had brought only full knights and squires.
Apprentices hadn't even been qualified to accompany the army now even the apprentices had come did that mean the Great Beast awaiting them was unlike anything before?
Nemiel tightened his grip on the reins.
'Could those strange rumors about the Northern Wilds actually be true?'
Zahariel shook his head.
"Perhaps Sir Lion wants this hunt to become a shared honor for every knight of the Order, not just the senior knights."
His attitude remained remarkably relaxed.
He simply didn't believe this was some final battle.
The strongest Great Beasts had been hunted first.
The survivors were little more than small fry.
Nowadays finding a Great Beast was often harder than killing one.
Besides if this truly were a hunt, the formation wouldn't be so tightly packed.
Sir Lion would have spread the army out to guard against surprise attacks.
Lion suddenly looked back.
His eyes landed upon the two young knights.
Surprisingly, his voice carried a trace of approval.
"Zahariel's answer was good but only half correct."
"This honor shouldn't belong only to the Order."
"It belongs to every knight who fought for Caliban."
Zahariel was stunned, "Thank you, my lord."
He and Nemiel were only newly promoted knights.
He had never imagined Sir Lion would even know who they were.
"My hearing is much sharper than you imagine."
"So next time you whisper remember to stay farther away from me."
Lion's voice was clearly teasing. Zahariel even thought he saw a glint of mischief in his eyes, as if he were playing with them.
But Sir Lion was the Grand Master. Surely he wouldn't be so bored?
Zahariel murmured to himself, "No, actually, we're not that bored either."
Not long after leaving Aldurukh, the Knights of the Star Cu[p and the Knights of the Fire Haze joined their ranks.
Gradually more and more knightly orders arrived.
Zahariel stared at the seemingly endless procession behind him, his heart filled with awe.
Over a hundred heraldic banners snapped in the wind. From the great and famous orders to nameless little bands with only a dozen knights, all of Caliban's armed forces were gathered here.
Nemiel lowered his voice. "Even the Iron Oak Order came. They only had seven men during last year's hunt."
Zahariel said, "Now there are twelve. They're as worthy of respect as any other order."
Nemiel snorted, "I never said they weren't."
Orders like the Iron Oak, with so few knights, could barely be considered proper orders.
Most were splinter groups from larger orders, or survivors of catastrophes like beast-tides.
They couldn't rebuild their orders. Their territory was only a few villages.
Though they were part of the Great Hunt, their small numbers made them obscure.
And they truly had little honour to show. Even a single Order squad had killed more Great Beast than they had.
Yet today they too had been invited to participate in the final battle.
To Lion every knightly order stood equal.
All the knights sat straighter, their armour polished to a shine, their faces beaming with pride.
This unprecedented, allied force was marching towards the Northern Wilds for the final battle that would end the age of the Great Beasts.
They followed the forest paths cleared over the past six months. The narrow trails only allowed three knights abreast, stretching the long column for miles. Even the keenest-eyed knight couldn't see its end.
This wasn't a hunt. It was more like an enormous excursion.
Nemiel said, "I don't think I've seen Sir Lion's father."
"I don't see Sir Lion's father."
"Me neither." Zahariel turned to ask Athias.
Indeed, Sir Lion's father wasn't there.
But Zahariel had seen his power. He wasn't worried about his safety.
Zahariel murmured, "Baldr and the others aren't here either."
Athias spoke cautiously. "Baldr is also my friend, but Zahariel, they aren't knights."
Zahariel wasn't referring to their absence from the marching army. He meant something else.
Even before the expedition he hadn't seen Baldr in Aldurukh for several days.
Could that really be coincidence?
Though they only received their orders on the day of departure, this was clearly a long-prepared hunt.
Just transmitting the orders to over a hundred knight orders would take at least half a month.
Some orders from remote areas would need at least ten days just to reach Aldurukh.
Instinct told Zahariel that Baldr's 'disappearance' was linked to the expedition.
What the link was, he couldn't yet guess.
The expedition continued northward into the deepest reaches of the Northern Wilds, where few people had ever ventured.
Unlike the lush forests they had passed through, there was an open expanse here.
To the left stood a cliff of pure white, as if carved from pearl.
A roaring waterfall cascaded down its face, plunging into a churning pool.
Lush greenery spread out in all directions. Zahariel felt a long-lost peace, soaking into his body and soul.
The Lion turned to face the assembled knights. His booming voice reached every ear perfectly.
"Today."
"I have gathered you here to celebrate the conclusion of our great crusade!"
"Caliban belongs to us!"
The Lion's declaration was answered by a tidal wave of voices.
"Caliban belongs to us!"
Zahariel shouted together with tens of thousands of knights.
The roar shook the heavens.
"For ten years we have fought side by side."
"We have shed blood together."
"We have returned covered in glory."
"Our brothers now sleep forever within that glory."
"But today... we stand upon the threshold of our greatest victory!"
"Everything we've struggled for, everything we've dreamed of every drop of blood we've shed will be proven worthwhile today!"
"This is not the victory of the Order!"
"It is the victory of every knight of Caliban!"
"Now-"
The Lion roared.
"Claim the victory that rightfully belongs to you with your own hands!"
ROOOAAAR!
An earth-shaking roar answered him.
On the distant horizon more than a hundred Great Beasts charged toward them.
The ground itself trembled beneath their advance.
"Draw your swords!"
"Follow me!"
Amadis bellowed as he spurred his horse forward, becoming the first to charge.
Nemiel instinctively reached for his sword.
But a veteran knight beside him pressed a hand firmly against the hilt.
"Stay where you are and watch."
The other knightly orders each sent forth a single knight.
Every one of them charged directly toward a Great Beast.
Zahariel immediately understood the silent agreement between the orders.
Each had chosen its finest champion to complete this sacred hunt.
These were the final Great Beasts.
Each order would kill its own and each would personally claim its final honor.
This wasn't Zahariel's first time watching Brother Amadis fight. Though usually gentle and refined, his fighting style was actually more aggressive than Lion's.
Because the Lion was too fast. Enemies often died without reacting, whether they were monsters or something else.
This overwhelming power was hard to measure.
Everyone knew he was powerful but no one truly grasped how powerful.
Amadis's strength was something mortals could comprehend. His swordsmanship flowed as beautifully as water.
But he was always dancing on the edge, deliberately exposing weaknesses to create opportunities for the enemy to expose theirs.
Amadis was powerful, the second strongest knight after Sir Lion.
Among all the knightly orders very few could rival him.
So he never failed.
But what if?
Zahariel couldn't help worrying.
But he was only a newly knighted knight. He had no right to critique a senior knight's fighting style.
And Amadis had already won, cleanly plunging his power sword into the Great Beast's neck, severing the head with a circular cut.
Previously, Amadis hadn't been so meticulous. He seemed to be learning from Sir Lion.
Sir Lion's style was famous for decapitations. Others couldn't see his movements, only the Great Beast's heads flying off.
"Amadis!"
"Amadis!"
Drenched in blood, Amadis returned to the Order's ranks.
The knights greeted him with thunderous cheers.
The other champions were still locked in combat.
Although the numbers of knights and Great Beasts were exactly equal the beasts somehow maintained perfectly synchronized one-on-one duels. It was strange.
Great Beasts held no intelligence. They couldn't coordinate like that. Someone must be controlling them.
Zahariel guessed it was probably Sir Caelan.
He didn't need to control them, just keep them charging in a fixed direction, keeping them out of the other battles.
But even so, it was impressive enough.
Flawless in ceremony and combat alike.
As the knights' fights ended one by one, and they returned to their orders... another deafening roar came from afar.
ROOOAAAR!
An enormous Great Beast emerged it stood a full five meters tall like a walking mountain.
The sight alone turned many apprentices pale. Even the well-trained warhorses stamped the ground anxiously.
But the Lion was already charging straight toward the monster.
This battle belonged to him alone.
This Great Beast was the true finale.