Excalibur

"You're the Demon Lord. You can stay anywhere you please, so why bother asking me?" Roselle said, her tone laced with disinterest. She didn't care for his affairs, much less why a demon would take an interest in human settlements.

Luseraph tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I'm simply asking for a recommendation. Is that too much?"

Roselle sighed, realizing that no matter how much she tried to dismiss him, he wouldn't simply go away. "Fine. If you're looking for a place close to Aelfhim, then you can try the Kingdom of Wilfharm or Rexburg. But if you want the most prosperous human settlement, it would be the Chorona Empire, the Scarlet Alliance, or Delzgade." She turned her back, intending to leave, but before she could take a step, a firm hand rested on her shoulder.

She froze. A sharp vein almost popped out on her forehead as she clenched her teeth. "I'd deeply appreciate it if you refrained from touching me when you can obviously use words to tell me to wait!"

Luseraph chuckled, withdrawing his hand. "I see. Anyway, ignoring the generous gesture of my faithful subordinate is a little disrespectful, don't you think?" His golden eyes glowed faintly as he gestured toward the sword still lying on the ground. "You should take the sword. It's quite evident why humans are weak—you reject something valuable simply because of a little pride or whatever self-esteem you think you have." His voice grew sharper, more commanding. "My words may sound harsh, but in this world, it's survival of the fittest. You have a choice: accept it or refuse it."

He paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to settle. Then, with an amused grin, he added, "One piece of advice: being human doesn't make you weak, but being weak makes you human. Being a demon doesn't make us strong, but being strong makes us demons. It's not about what you were born as—it's about what you strive to become." With a slight wink, his form flickered before vanishing into thin air.

Roselle scoffed, folding her arms. "What a lunatic. He says the craziest things and then ends it with a ridiculous gesture." Yet, as much as she wanted to dismiss his words, they lingered in her mind.

Her gaze fell upon the sword. It still radiated immense energy, making the very air around it feel heavy. The fact that they had casually given her a weapon of this caliber was shocking. More so, she couldn't even gauge its limits. From what she could tell, it surpassed her previous weapon, an eighth-grade artifact. This had to be at least a ninth-grade, maybe even beyond.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden voice ringing in her head.

"Isn't that the mythical weapon—Excalibur!?"

The sheer volume of the ancestral spirit's voice made her wince, covering her ears despite it being telepathic.

"For the past few minutes, I forgot you even existed," Roselle muttered, clearly unimpressed. "It seems even a spirit fears demons."

"It's not my fault!" The spirit's tone was laced with genuine distress. "The fact that you're still breathing after encountering that monster is nothing short of a miracle. Not even the goddess herself could guarantee that kind of survival!"

Roselle rolled her eyes. "What do you mean 'monster'? It was just Luseraph. He's neither an enemy nor a friend. We just have a neutral relationship, which is actually fortunate for us."

"I'm not talking about—"

"Forget about that and tell me about the blade," Roselle cut in sharply, not wanting to dwell any longer on the terrifying demons that had just left. "You seem to know something about it."

The spirit huffed. "Hmph! Fine then. That sword is from the mythical ages! Excalibur! Once wielded by the legendary human king of Camel—"

"—You mean the same Arthur from those old stories? The one who slayed dragons and ruled a great kingdom alongside Merlin, the wizard who could plunge worlds into ruin?" Roselle asked, her curiosity now fully piqued. She recalled those bedtime stories her late mother used to read to her.

"It's not entirely accurate," the spirit corrected, "especially the part about Merlin. But you at least have some idea. That sword's power is legendary. Only those of noble blood and deemed worthy can wield it. Now tell me, how did such a blade end up on the ground!?"

Roselle deadpanned. "Weren't you here when the Demon Lord's lackey gave it to me? As 'compensation'?"

There was a long silence before the spirit coughed awkwardly. "Actually… the moment I sensed that subordinate's killing intent, I left. I returned to my grave for a while."

Roselle narrowed her eyes. "You left?"

"Yes, but not because I was scared or anything! I just… wanted to breathe the sweet air of my grave again! The scent of a good cemetery, you know?"

"You really suck at lying," she said flatly.

The spirit sighed in defeat. "Why wouldn't I leave!? Being in the presence of those demons would have made me cease to exist without even knowing how it happened!"

Roselle exhaled deeply, rubbing her temples. "Tch. Some guardian spirit you are."

She looked at the sword once more. If this really was Excalibur, then what Luseraph had said made even more sense. Strength wasn't about what you were born as, but what you chose to become. And right now, she had a choice.

Would she take it?

Her grip tightened as she reached for the sword, her decision already made.