From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

The fire had long since died down, and the darkness seemed to creep into his heart from the forest, slowly extinguishing the last spark of fire in his chest. A wind blew from afar, carrying the damp, cold night mist, and it also stirred the armor beneath his cloak, making a clanging sound, as if reminding him: he was no longer just Eric, no longer just a knight of the Kingdom of Nosteria.

If the sword forged by Ruo Hui was a symbol of the fallen swordsman of yesteryear, then does its sound now signify that he, Eric, is the continuation of that bloodline that was long buried in the dust?

But he refused to admit it.

It wasn't out of humility, but out of fear.

He was just an ordinary person.

He lacked the glory sung by poets, the swordsmanship of an eagle spreading its wings, and the royal status of being born surrounded by faith.

He still remembers his battle with Kaderlo.

That was the first time he understood how heavy the word "powerful" truly was in reality.

He barely had a chance to react. Kadro's sword was like a black storm; one swing left him unable to grip the sword, and the second sent him flying out of the fighting circle.

He doubted whether he could fight against the impending return of darkness.

Eric's fingertips slowly tightened, the nail plates grinding together with a soft sound. A stone lodged in his throat, making his breathing heavy.

He didn't know how to proceed.

If the prophecy is true, and if the diviner of pure blood left this book truly to wait for him.

Does that mean there are truly no choices left in this world?

He dared not ask.

He simply kept his head down, the firelight extinguished at the edge of his armor, like a layer of old ash covering him. His fists slowly clenched and then slowly relaxed, his fingers gently rubbing against his knees, as if trying to wipe away some heavy mark that did not belong to him from his palms.

"Even if I wanted to," he said softly, "even if it really were me..."

He looked up at Eileen.

"But I am nothing."

"I am not a general of any kingdom, nor a disciple of any great master. I have no bloodline insignia, nor the support of any clan. I am not the one with the prophesied name."

He paused, his voice a little hoarse, "Even if I really did take on this sword, who would accept me?"

"Those councilors in their towers? Those court generals in their triple cloaks? Or those young nobles on white horses?"

His eyes trembled slightly, but he gritted his teeth:

"They would say I'm a fraud, a reckless tomb raider, a charlatan knight who uses ancient swords to play tricks."

"Nobody will listen to me. Nobody will follow me into a battle where nobody even believes the enemy exists."

"I--"

He stopped, as if he didn't know what else to say.

Eileen remained seated, watching him, without interrupting.

It was only after a long time that she slowly spoke.

The voice was low, yet it burned like the last embers of a campfire.

Do you think the fortune teller who left this book knew who it would eventually end up with?

Eric was stunned.

"Do you think he can guarantee that the fragmented prophecies he left in his ruins will eventually be heard by someone with a prominent name?"

She smiled gently, a deep tenderness appearing in her eyes.

"But he still wrote it down."

"He wasn't the one chosen by the sword either, but he still chose to light a lamp and wait for the person who was meant to come in the long, dark night."

Eric did not answer.

The wind blew again, this time stirring up some gray leaves from the forest.

"We always think that fate chooses those who are ready," Eileen said softly. "But in reality, fate often chooses those who, even if they are not ready, will still stand up."

"You didn't become someone because 'someone obeyed your orders,' you became someone who takes action even without waiting for orders."

"You believe the Radiant Sword resonates because of your pure bloodline?"

I prefer to believe that it sings because of your pure heart.

Eric was startled.

Eileen continued, "You said no one would follow you."

"But I'll follow you."

"I'll go with you too," Leah said hurriedly.

Eric remained silent for a long time, so long that the sound of the wind shifted from the distant forest to the nearby shore.

"I don't know what to do," he said.

"Then just live," Eileen said softly. "Live, and then make a decision. Don't make a decision for the whole world. Just for yourself."

She gazed at the sky.

The morning star rises, before dawn.

"And if that day truly comes, the Black Gate will open again, and the Night Whispers will resound once more."

"I will stand by your side."

"Don't ask who else."

"In places you can't see, there are many people who, just like you, are trying to live."

The fire has been completely extinguished.

Darkness enveloped the surroundings, but Eric felt the weight on his shoulders was no longer so biting.

From the moment Hui Zhujian recognized him, everything was already destined.

He gently closed his eyes, his brow furrowed, as if carrying some indescribable burden. The night was silent, and the embers in the fire were still warm, as if waiting in the darkness for that ray of light to reignite.

He is not a Starfall Swordsman.

But now he knows that the real Starfall Swordsman was probably just an ordinary person who raised his sword in the ruins back then.

"Then," he raised his head, looking at the eastern horizon already tinged with the first light of dawn, a faint yet resolute light shining in his eyes, "our primary task is to retrieve the Radiant Sword from the Nosterian royal family!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the surrounding area fell silent, with only the sound of the wind echoing through the forest like an ancient reverberation.

Eileen gazed at him, her eyes filled with light and worry, but in the end she simply nodded gently.

"Yes." Her tone was calm, yet it was as if the ice and snow on the mountaintop had suddenly melted, carrying a will that had not moved for a thousand years. "That sword will return to your hands sooner or later."

She paused slightly, then looked up at the sky: "But not now."

"I think you should go to Iser first," she said slowly, her voice low but firm, "to see the king."

"Judging from what has happened these days, the forces of darkness are already stirring."

She paused, then continued:

"We can't stand idly by, Eric. But we are outnumbered and isolated."

Eric lowered his head, pondered for a moment, the joints between his nail plates rubbing slightly. He clenched his fist, then relaxed it, as if sensing the shape of responsibility with his palm.

"You're right," he finally said, without a trace of hesitation, "Isel is a necessary step. We need allies, we need resources."

"What about me?" Leah asked from the side, her voice clear but filled with undisguised reluctance.

Eileen looked at her, her expression softening.

"You should still go to Luzelo." Her tone was as quiet and firm as ivy. "After all, you haven't been home in a long time."

Leah looked at her, her lips tightened for a moment, but she finally nodded gently.

Eric reached out and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

"We'll be waiting for you in Elgarden," he said.

"You'll have to wait for me." Leah snorted softly, her eyes slightly red but no tears falling. "I don't want to come back to find you two turned into fossils of some kind of martyrdom from a legend."

They all chuckled softly, a faint smile, but like the glimmer of dawn piercing through the last thick shadow of the night.

The next morning, a cool breeze blew, the sky was turning white, and frost covered the grass beneath their feet. Horses breathed softly in the morning light, and the clatter of iron fittings against leather awakened the travelers, reminding them that this was the beginning of a new journey.

They embarked on the eastward forest path, where a thin mist gradually rose, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, like the radiance of a thousand years ago, passing through yesterday's war and shining on today's road.

After that day, the three of them headed toward Elgarden, the capital of Iser.