"What is the Ancient One?"
Lion's question left the young knight silent.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to utter the forbidden name.
"The Ouroboros."
Luther immediately rebuked him, "Ridiculous. The Ouroboros is nothing more than an ancient legend."
The knight raised his pale face, "Sir, if you had ever entered the Northern Wilds and witnessed the powers that transcend reality, you would understand. Some legends are closer to the truth than what you call reality."
Amadis spoke next, "Can you prove it?"
"As I said before."
"The Ouroboros is everywhere."
The knight lowered his gaze toward the stone floor.
A spiral had been carved into the ground, winding from one end of the chamber to the other.
The spiral was Caliban's oldest symbol its origins stretched back to the animistic beliefs brought by the first Terran colonists, perhaps even further.
To this day, every knightly order still preserved it as part of its traditions.
Each order interpreted the spiral differently, yet they all arrived at similar conclusions.
The spiral continued endlessly. Whenever it reached what seemed to be its end, it curved back upon itself, forming an eternal cycle.
"The knightly orders were built upon the Ouroboros."
"The Order divides its knights into the Inner Circle and the Outer Circle. Your territory is likewise divided into inner and outer rings. That is your interpretation of the spiral."
"Other knightly orders interpret the spiral as offense and defense."
"The common people see within it the cycle of life. From birth to death and from death back to life."
"That is why they believe the Underworld truly exists and why they believe the Watchers guard both the Underworld and the cycle of reincarnation."
"Historians see the endless repetition of history within the spiral. We keep making the same mistakes and more often than not, those mistakes begin with the foolishness of individuals. That is Caliban's culture."
"Everything is built upon the spiral. None of these interpretations are wrong but every one of them is incomplete."
"The spiral is the symbol of the Ouroboros."
"It is the faith of the Ancients."
"And by 'Ancients,' I do not mean the ancient Terran colonists."
"I mean the beliefs of Caliban's original inhabitants."
"Our ancestors inherited that faith. From it, our culture was born."
"The Great Beasts?" Lion asked.
"They are part of it but they are not all of it."
"Perhaps other forms of life once existed upon Caliban."
"They are long extinct."
"Only the Great Beasts and the Watchers remain."
"If these original inhabitants truly existed," Lion asked, "why have we never discovered any trace of them?"
The Order had existed for only a few decades.
Yet the catacombs beneath the great stone dated back thousands of years, all the way to the first settlers.
Wherever someone had walked, they left traces behind. Even if Caliban's native civilization had vanished surely foundations or ruins should still exist.
"Sir."
"The spiral is a perfect cycle."
"No matter where you begin, it is simultaneously the beginning and the end."
"So-"
"What would happen if we forcibly erased one single point from that great cycle?"
The knight answered his own question.
His voice gradually became lower, "That one point may appear insignificant but removing any point breaks the spiral. It ceases to be a cycle."
"So then."
"How many points does our cycle contain?"
"One scholar once proposed, 'Perhaps the entire cycle has always consisted of only one point'."
"It is one and it is ten thousand."
"It is the first beginning and the final ending."
"You are that point."
"So am I."
"The forest is that point."
"The Great Beasts are that point."
"Caliban itself is that point."
"Everything exists within that single point."
"The infinite repetition of that point creates our world."
"When that point is erased. The entire cycle disappears with it. Everything returns to nothingness."
"No matter what kinds of life once flourished upon this land. If their point is erased, every trace they ever left behind vanishes."
"Even memory itself disappears."
"There exists no method to record that they ever existed."
"No matter who they were."
"No matter how long they lived."
Luther questioned him mercilessly.
"So you possess no evidence whatsoever to support your theory?"
"It can neither be proven nor disproven."
"But surely you understand. My duty is merely to recount the truth."
"Whether others choose to accept or believe it has never depended on me."
"But at least among us among the Order of the Wolf."
"They all believe this truth."
Amadis shook his head.
"That is merely your truth."
"Yes and that is why we have never sought to spread it."
"The Ouroboros is imprisoned within the Northern Wilds."
"The more people who learn of Its existence, the easier it becomes for It to escape."
"Even within the Order of the Wolf only a handful are permitted to know the truth."
Caelan quietly studied the young knight.
'By his own admission, only a select few within the Order knew the secret.'
'Those few should have been veteran knights. Yet this youth looked barely past his teens. He had only become a full knight a few years ago. So why had he been entrusted with the Order's greatest secret?'
'Either Sartana had already chosen him as his successor or someone had deliberately revealed the truth so he could defect to the Order.;
'Whichever explanation was correct both pointed back to Sartana.'
The old lord had appeared stubborn and uncompromising before the public.
Yet in private he clearly understood the value of compromise.
The Order of the Wolf had to stand its ground.
They could not abandon the duty inherited from their ancestors.
Yet neither were they willing to let themselves perish, taking the truth with them.
Someone had to preserve it.
Luther frowned, "What happens if someone learns the truth?"
"They die."
The knight's answer was immediate, "The moment you become aware of It..."
"It becomes aware of you."
"It may replace you at any time."
"And none of us would ever know."
His explanation sounded almost mystical.
Neither Luther nor Amadis believed him.
It sounded no different from the wildest folk religions.
They were knights. They believed in understanding the world through reason.
Without irrefutable proof, they would never accept such claims.
Amadis asked, "If the Ouroboros truly exists within everything, as you say... then Caliban itself is part of It."
"If It transcends all logic and reality."
"If It is truly that powerful, then why is It sealed within the Northern Wilds?"
"I don't know."
"Perhaps, there exists some being even greater than It..."
"One who imprisoned It and because the prison itself is also part of It."
"It can never escape."
Just as humans could never escape their own flesh, the Ouroboros could never escape Caliban. Yet Its will existed within every inch of the planet.
Every living creature, every grain of sand, for every life that dwelled upon Caliban.
If the Ouroboros ever escaped the Northern Wilds.
Even if It remained trapped upon the planet, it would still bring utter catastrophe upon all Calibanites.
That was why the Order of the Wolf would never permit anyone to enter the Northern Wilds.
Only the Great Beasts were allowed to live there.
Lion asked, "The Order of the Wolf has always guarded the Ouroboros."
"But are you guarding It or protecting It?"
"I don't know."
"Perhaps not even Lord Sartana knows."
"I."
"They."
"Are simply carrying on the mission."
They faithfully upheld their duty, without understanding why it existed or who had first entrusted it to them.
They feared the apocalypse that would come if the Ouroboros escaped.
Yet perhaps, through their own actions, they were helping bring about that very disaster.
So they clung to the status quo. The Ouroboros had not escaped.
Therefore, maintaining the present situation guaranteed that It would never escape.
But events did not unfold as they expected, Lion's appearance shattered that balance within only a few years.
The Great Beasts were already nearing extinction.
Even the Order of the Wolf itself stood on the brink of annihilation.
Yet they continued carrying out their mission.
Because they sincerely believed they were protecting the world.
But that was only the Order of the Wolf's version of the story.
Lion did not agree. The times advanced.
If the people of Caliban refused to advance with them, history would leave them behind.
Fear should drive progress, not imprison people in place.
Lion understood that not everyone welcomed change. Those stubborn traditionalists belonged in history's garbage heap. They were free to preserve ancient customs and traditions. But they had no right to obstruct progress.
Otherwise, they would inevitably be crushed by it.
Sartana might have been stubborn but he was no fool.
Against the overwhelming numbers of the allied armies, the Order of the Wolf had no chance of victory.
They were merely making a final stand.
He had prepared for this.
Those knights who had already left the Order of the Wolf and this young knight before them, they were all continuations of the Order's legacy.
Even if the Order of the Wolf were destroyed, even if they no longer bore the title of Wolf Knight, its traditions would survive through them.
Most importantly, the truth the young knight carried that was the true foundation of the Order's existence.
As long as that truth endured their mission would not truly end.
Whatever reasons drove them Lion respected their conviction but they were still enemies.
Long before the campaign reached the Northern Wilds.
The Order of the Wolf had repeatedly sabotaged the hunts from the shadows.
Too much blood had already been spilled between them.
There could never be peace.
Even if Sartana had bowed his head today, Lion could hardly have spared him.
The Order of the Wolf had to answer for its crimes.
By refusing to yield, Sartana had at least allowed both sides to preserve their dignity.
Lion's voice remained calm, "Until this war is over, you will not leave this place."
"I understand."
The young knight bowed his head.
He had expected nothing less.
His mission was already complete.
He had delivered the truth to Lion.
Whether Lion accepted it or dismissed it as nonsense was no longer within his control.
Still judging from Lion's reaction he did not seem to reject it entirely.
No matter how much Lion believed as long as he remained cautious of the Northern Wilds the mission was already half accomplished.
....
"Zahariel."
"Should we go try pulling the Sword in the Stone too?"
Inside the dormitory, Nemiel whispered conspiratorially.
Zahariel rolled over, "Those legendary knights couldn't draw it."
"You think we can?"
"But we should at least try!"
Nemiel insisted eagerly, "What if we're the ones?"
"Sir Lion said the sword has a will of its own."
"It chooses its own master."
"They couldn't draw it because they weren't chosen."
"What if we are?"
Zahariel looked at him, "Then answer me this."
"What makes you think you're greater than those famous knights?"
"They all failed."
"So why would you succeed?"
"What's so special about you?"
"Can you hunt Great Beasts at eight years old too?"
Nemiel immediately shrank back.
No.
He couldn't.
Zahariel was talking about Sir Lion.
Even now, stories of Lion's childhood remained legendary.
Caliban was not entirely without examples of eight-year-olds hunting Great Beasts.
But those had been apprentice knights wearing power armor.
And even then ikt had taken an entire team working together to kill a single Great Beast.
Several of them had died doing so.
Sir Lion had hunted alone and not merely one beast but an entire pack.
Nemiel knew his own limits.
He would never compare to Sir Lion.
So instead he had chosen Sir Amadis as the goal he wished to surpass.
Amadis's exploits were legendary too but at least they still belonged within the realm of ordinary men.
Nemiel fell silent.
Zahariel frowned.
Why had Nemiel stopped persuading him?
Had he really talked him out of it?
Surely not.
But if Nemiel no longer insisted, what excuse would he have to go try pulling the sword?
Zahariel silently regretted speaking so harshly.
Now he'd made things awkward.
He needed to find a way to rekindle Nemiel's enthusiasm.
Although Zahariel believed he probably wasn't worthy of the sword.
What if?
What if he possessed some hidden quality the divine sword sought?
What if he could actually draw it?
The thought stirred excitement deep inside him.
Despite being unusually composed for someone his age, who could truly resist the temptation of becoming famous while still young?
He knew he would never reach Sir Lion's unattainable heights.
But he still dreamed of earning that same admiration.
If he drew the sword he could skip twenty years of struggle.
The problem was he needed Nemiel to bring it up again.
But what excuse could he use?
What a headache.
Finally, Nemiel muttered, "Well-"
"Maybe we could just go take a look?"
"We'll only try once."
"Just accompany me."
Zahariel let out an exaggerated sigh before throwing back his blanket.
"I really can't say no to you."
"Fine."
"We'll go."
"But let me make one thing clear."
"We're only looking."
"Don't even think about overestimating yourself by trying to draw it."
Nemiel stared at Zahariel
'Something suddenly felt off was Zahariel setting me up?'
Unfortunately, he had no proof.
Accusing him outright would only make himself seem petty.
So he kept quiet.
The two slipped quietly out of camp beneath the moonlight.
It was already well past midnight.
The square should have been completely deserted.
Only at this hour should apprentices like them have had a chance.
Yet, the moment they rounded the corner they froze.
The square was packed.
At least a hundred knights stood there shoulder to shoulder.
"Damn it!"
Zahariel groaned. "I should've known."
During the day only the veteran knights had been permitted to attempt the sword.
Which meant Nighttime belonged to the fully-fledged knights.
With all those knights present, how could a pair of apprentices possibly get a turn?
"What do we do now?" Nemiel asked.
"Zahariel! Nemiel!"
Just as they were at a loss, someone shouted their names. "What are you doing here?"
The two cousins froze. They turned slowly to face Master Ramil's furious glare.
Whose eyes burned with unmistakable anger.
Zahariel took a step back, laughing nervously. "Fancy meeting you here, Master. Taking a midnight stroll?"