It's seems I wasn't ready

The next morning.

The morning sunlight slowly crept up from the eastern horizon, spilling across the desert skyline and illuminating thousands of golden grains of sand with a soft glow.

The light filtered through the gaps between the tents, gently warming the cold morning air with its touch.

I stood alone outside the tent, right at the edge of the shadow where the sun hadn't reached yet. The morning air felt crisp, and the soft desert breeze rustled the hem of my cloak.

From afar, I could faintly hear the sounds of waking travelers—some were lighting small campfires, others were cleaning their weapons. A peaceful bustle.

I had been out here all night, keeping watch over our tent from a distance, standing guard in silence.

Not because I feared something would attack—but because I couldn't close my eyes.

Too many thoughts ran through my mind—about Camelot, the Holy Selection, and the people who had no idea what awaited them beyond the city walls.

Astolfo had fallen asleep early last night. He looked tired, though he never once complained.

Even before his eyes closed, he kept rambling about how soft the magical pillow I made for him was.

I simply listened from outside the tent, waiting until I was sure he had drifted off before turning my attention back to my surroundings.

While walking around the wanderers' camp, I had approached several other tents, disguised as one of them.

Travelers from various regions had gathered here. Faces full of hope.

Spirits still burning bright. All of them waiting for the chance to be chosen by the Lion King—unaware that failure would mean the end of everything.

I looked toward the gates of the holy city of Camelot in the distance.

There, a few knights stood tall in formation. Their white armor gleamed in the morning light, and their banners fluttered high behind them.

Though clearly alert, they didn't seem to notice me from this far away.

Whether it was because my disguise was working, or because they didn't bother paying attention to wanderers before the selection began—I couldn't tell.

But it gave me a bit of relief.

After making sure everything was safe, I returned to our tent.

Slowly, I opened the tent flap. The fabric curtain parted slightly, letting the morning light slip into the narrow space.

My gaze immediately fell on Astolfo, still lying comfortably on the bedding.

His long pink hair was a mess, partially covering his face. His breathing was steady, and his expression looked peaceful—like a child dreaming sweetly.

I considered letting him sleep a little longer, but we didn't have the luxury of idling today.

There was much to prepare, especially if we truly intended to approach the city gates.

I stepped inside, careful not to make any noise.

As I drew near and leaned down to gently wake him, Astolfo stirred slightly.

His eyes blinked open slowly, then widened fully.

"Oh… morning, Altria…" he mumbled, his voice hoarse and sleepy.

I paused for a moment. "You're awake earlier than I expected."

"Hehe, maybe you're the one who woke up too early." He let out a wide yawn and stretched his arms. "But… wait, you've been outside since last night, haven't you?"

I didn't answer right away—just looked at him for a second before standing and patting the top of the tent where sand had settled.

"Just a precaution. This place isn't entirely safe."

Astolfo sat up, yawning again as he rubbed his eyes. "Well… you really are dependable, huh."

I turned my face away. "It's no big deal."

"In that case…" he said, beginning to straighten his clothes, "what's our plan for today?"

I looked outside the tent, toward the crowd of wanderers starting to gather near the gates of the holy city.

A crowd unaware they were walking toward a selection that would show them no mercy.

"Holy Selection," I answered quietly. "It will begin soon."

Astolfo sprang out of the tent with boundless energy.

His pink hair, still a bit tangled, bounced as he twirled on the spot, stretching with a lighthearted laugh.

"Uwah~ The desert morning air's actually pretty nice! Even if it's kinda dry."

I stood not far from him, silently summoning Excalibur—checking once more on the sword concealed by Invisible Air.

Though I appeared calm, I couldn't ignore the faint tension hanging in the air today.

In the distance, the sound of a horn blew faintly, then grew louder. Three blasts, then silence. That was the signal—the Holy Selection would begin today.

I made Excalibur vanish again into blue particles of light.

Astolfo turned toward the sound, then looked back at me. "Was that…?"

"A call for the wanderers who wish to try their luck," I replied briefly. "The selection is about to begin."

A crowd had formed. Men and women, young and old, gathered in long lines headed for the main gates of the holy city of Camelot.

Some carried only simple belongings. Others wore the finest clothes they had, as if attending a sacred ceremony.

"Let's join that line!" Astolfo said, hopping a little as he patted the sides of the tent to make sure nothing had been left behind.

"You sure we don't need anything else?"

I shook my head. "No need. We're not really going in—at least, not yet."

We walked together toward the large crowd slowly moving forward. The white knights guarding the gates checked each person one by one, using only spears and nods for signals.

Astolfo waved cheerfully at one of them, but received nothing in return except a cold stare from behind a silver helmet.

"Uh… they're not exactly the friendliest, huh…"

"Because they don't see us as fellow humans," I replied softly.

"What do you mean?" Astolfo turned to me, full of curiosity.

I took a breath, then answered carefully. "What they see are only two things—potential… and threat. This Holy Selection isn't just a selection to enter the city. It's a test."

Astolfo stared at me for a moment. "...A test for what?"

I didn't answer right away. I simply turned my gaze toward the towering walls of Camelot, where the Lion King observed from afar.

"To see who is worthy to enter. And who is not."

Astolfo looked at me for a few more seconds, but eventually nodded slowly, seeming to accept my brief explanation even if he didn't fully understand it.

"Alright. I'll trust your judgment."

We walked together, following the line toward the towering gates. The atmosphere grew quieter and tenser as one by one, the wanderers approached the line of knights.

The sound of clinking weapons, marching steps, and whispered prayers began to replace the noise of last night.

Astolfo glanced at me again. "You'll stay with me, right?"

I nodded slightly. "I'll stay by your side. Until the time comes."

****

POV Astolfo

I gave a faint smile, unsure whether it was out of nervousness or just an attempt to keep the spirit alive in the middle of all this tension.

My feet moved slowly across the sand, now starting to warm under the sun, and my eyes kept scanning the surroundings.

The crowd felt quieter than last night. Everyone looked alert, clutching their hopes and fears in silence.

I could feel it—the air was tense, like a bowstring pulled to its limit.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.

Someone stood atop the city gate, tall and unmoving like a statue placed to guard a sacred temple.

They wore a white robe that flowed gracefully in the wind, and on their head rested a helmet shaped like a lion's head, radiating an overwhelming aura of authority and majesty.

I stared for a moment, frozen. There was something… wrong. Or maybe too right. That figure didn't just look like a holy knight. They were a symbol—of absolute power demanding unconditional submission.

I turned slowly to Altria, who stood calmly beside me, her hood once again covering most of her face, hiding the sharp glint in her eyes.

"Altria-chan…" I called softly, "That one… standing on the gate… who is that?"

Without a moment of hesitation, Altria answered, her voice low and wary, "Lion King."

Just two words, and suddenly the air around me felt different. Even the sun seemed colder.

"Lion King…?" I repeated quietly, trying to grasp the weight behind that name.

"He is someone dangerous," Altria added. This time, her voice was firmer. There was no doubt—only warning.

(A: I'll pronounce Lion king as he, because Artoria appearance is hidden through of her armor. well, the mc is know that Lion king was a woman but she's want to keep it hidden for herself. Actually there's many reasons why I pronounce Lion King as he)

I furrowed my brows, still staring at the figure above—the Lion King standing atop the city gate like a sacred marble statue, towering over the world in silent judgment.

His cloak fluttered gently in the desert wind, and the lion-shaped helmet reflected the morning sun, blinding anyone who looked at it for too long.

That figure... was awe-inspiring. Yet, there was something I couldn't explain—a cold feeling slowly creeping into my chest.

"Eh? Why's that…?" I asked, turning to Altria beside me.

"He seems like a great leader. I mean, look at all the people here. They've gathered with hope in their eyes, surely they admire him, right?"

Altria didn't answer immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on the top of the gate, eyes sharp and cold like the edge of a sword. Then, in a low but heavy voice, she said, "Because he's not here to save… but to destroy and bring an end."

Her words hung in the air like a chilling, suffocating fog. I swallowed hard, instinctively.

It was as if the world around us had just lost all its color. People might see him as a savior, a divine king... but the way Altria spoke, she clearly saw the same figure from a very different angle.

"To destroy and bring an end…?" I murmured in disbelief. "You're joking…"

But Altria continued, her tone darker, "Calling him a symbol of majesty might be a mistake... Because he himself is the end of all things."

I turned fully toward her, confused and curious all at once. "Ehh... who are you even talking about? How can a king be a symbol of destruction?"

She didn't answer right away.

Her gaze shifted, pointing to something behind the Lion King.

I followed her eyes—and only then did I notice it. A tower behind the city walls. Tall, towering, as if trying to pierce the very sky itself.

The tower hadn't been visible from afar due to a thin veil of mist, but now I could see it clearly: its shape was strange, almost like a structure not of this world.

"Do you see that tower over there?" Altria finally asked, her voice heavy and slow, as if testing my reaction. "That's no ordinary building. That is the tower of the end."

"Ehh…? How do you know about that?" I asked softly, my voice catching as I suddenly felt... small.

Altria remained silent. Her face darkened slightly, as if shadowed by a past she didn't want to reveal. No answer came from her, and I felt like I shouldn't push her further.

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. "Anyway…" I tried to shift the mood, hoping to ease the pressure that had tightened in my chest. "Does that mean he's a Servant too?"

Altria finally gave a slow nod. "Yes. A Servant… And not an ordinary one. He is a king. And not just any king."

I turned my gaze back to the Lion King, still standing motionless atop the gate.

Only his silhouette was clearly visible now, yet it was enough to make me feel like a pawn on a game board I didn't understand.

It felt like we were standing in the middle of a giant chess match… and someone had just revealed their white king.

I took a slow breath, glancing once more at Altria, who remained silent with her head bowed.

Her eyes, though hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, carried a weight and a knowledge I didn't possess.

I gave a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You're really hard to read, you know that?"

Altria slowly turned to me. No smile, but somehow… I could tell she wasn't annoyed.

Only silence—but in that silence, I could feel something terrifying preparing to awaken beyond the desert sky.

And for some reason… I knew I wasn't ready.