Volume 1: The Fourth Holy Grail War
Chapter 19: The Lady of the Sacred River
The night was unusually peaceful.
A small campfire flickered gently beneath the stars.
Morgan had already fallen asleep inside their tent after another long day of traveling.
Ren, however…
Remained awake.
Mélusine’s tiny sphere of light floated lazily above the fire, occasionally circling around him before returning to rest on his shoulder.
He smiled.
“…Can’t sleep?”
The little light bobbed up and down.
Although it couldn’t speak…
Its emotions had become much easier to understand.
Curiosity.
Joy.
Occasionally…
Loneliness.
Ren gently extended a finger.
Mélusine happily landed on it.
“You really are like a child.”
The tiny spirit glowed proudly.
Ren laughed quietly.
The surrounding forest suddenly became silent.
Not unnaturally.
Rather…
Respectfully.
The flowing river beside their camp began shining with a faint silver radiance.
The current slowed.
Moonlight reflected upon its surface like countless stars.
Ren immediately stood.
“…”
This wasn’t ordinary mana.
It was Mystery.
Ancient…
Pure…
And incredibly gentle.
Mélusine suddenly became excited.
She darted toward the river before circling above it repeatedly.
As though welcoming someone.
The river’s surface rippled.
Without a single splash…
A graceful woman slowly emerged from the water.
Long silver-blue hair flowed behind her like the river itself.
Her dress seemed woven from moonlight and flowing streams.
Every step she took caused lotus flowers of light to bloom upon the water.
Her eyes reflected countless ages.
Gentle.
Wise.
Ancient.
Yet warm.
Ren immediately recognized her.
“…”
“The River Goddess…”
The woman smiled.
“It has been many years.”
“You’ve grown, little one.”
Ren bowed respectfully.
“I didn’t expect to meet you again.”
She chuckled softly.
“I did.”
“I have been watching.”
Those simple words carried no arrogance.
Only quiet affection.
Morgan slowly emerged from the tent.
She froze.
Even without introductions…
She immediately understood.
The being standing before them was no ordinary spirit.
It was a Divine Spirit.
One whose existence was deeply connected to the rivers of Britain.
Morgan respectfully lowered her head.
The River Goddess nodded kindly.
“You have cared for him well.”
Morgan smiled.
“He is my little brother.”
“I know.”
The goddess’s gaze shifted toward the tiny white light floating beside Ren.
“Oh…”
“So you finally found someone.”
Mélusine happily circled around the goddess before returning beside Ren.
The goddess laughed quietly.
“It seems she has already chosen.”
Ren looked slightly confused.
“…You know her?”
“I know Albion.”
“Long before kingdoms existed…”
“The White Dragon protected this land.”
“Even after its death…”
“A fragment of its heart refused to disappear.”
Her gaze rested upon Mélusine.
“It waited.”
“For someone kind enough…”
“…to hear its lonely voice.”
The tiny spirit gently rubbed against Ren’s cheek.
The River Goddess smiled.
“You gave her something I never could.”
“…A name.”
Silence settled once more.
Only the sound of flowing water could be heard.
Then…
The goddess slowly raised her hand.
The river began responding.
The current accelerated.
Silver pillars of water spiraled into the night sky.
Countless particles of light emerged from every direction.
Mana.
Divine Power.
Mystery.
All gathered together.
Ren instinctively took a step back.
“…What is this?”
“I made you a promise.”
The River Goddess smiled gently.
“Do you remember?”
Ren nodded slowly.
“When we first met…”
“You said we would meet again.”
She inclined her head.
“And a promise should be fulfilled.”
The river suddenly erupted with brilliant golden light.
Two enormous pillars rose from its depths.
One shone with brilliant gold.
The other…
With pure white.
The surrounding forest trembled.
Even the stars above seemed to dim before their radiance.
The first pillar slowly dissolved.
Within it…
A sword appeared.
Its blade shone like the first light of dawn.
Elegant.
Perfect.
Ancient.
Golden seals extended across the blade from guard to tip.
One after another.
Thirteen in total.
Each quietly sleeping.
Ren immediately recognized it.
“…Excalibur…”
The Sword of Promised Victory.
Yet…
This sword was different.
The thirteen restraints remained engraved upon its body.
But unlike the one wielded by Proto-Arthur…
They did not respond to external judgment.
The River Goddess looked at Ren.
“The restraints remain.”
“They are part of its nature.”
“But…”
“They answer only to you.”
“No council.”
“No watchers.”
“No permission.”
“The one who decides…”
“…will always be its bearer.”
Ren stared silently.
The second pillar gradually faded.
A magnificent lance appeared.
White.
Elegant.
Majestic.
Its shape resembled a tower stretching toward heaven.
Unlike Excalibur…
Its presence did not feel destructive.
Instead…
It felt…
Steady.
As though it anchored the very world itself.
“…Rhongomyniad.”
Morgan whispered.
The Holy Lance.
The River Goddess gently held both sacred treasures.
“They were never meant for ordinary hands.”
She looked toward Ren.
“But neither are yours.”
Ren frowned slightly.
“…I already carry Gungnir.”
The goddess smiled.
“I know.”
“Odin entrusted you with the authority to stand against your enemies.”
She lifted Excalibur.
“This…”
“…is the hope to illuminate the future.”
Then Rhongomyniad.
“And this…”
“…is the resolve to protect that future.”
She stepped forward.
The three divine weapons resonated.
Gungnir.
Excalibur.
Rhongomyniad.
None rejected one another.
Instead…
The ancient weapons acknowledged each other’s bearers.
Golden runes along Gungnir glowed softly.
The thirteen seals upon Excalibur shimmered.
Rhongomyniad answered with a quiet silver radiance.
The River Goddess smiled.
“Take them.”
Ren hesitated.
“…These belong to Britain.”
She nodded.
“They do.”
“And Britain has chosen.”
Slowly…
Ren accepted Excalibur.
Then Rhongomyniad.
The moment both sacred weapons entered his hands—
No overwhelming explosion occurred.
No earth-shattering miracle.
Instead…
Everything became strangely peaceful.
The surrounding mana naturally gathered around him.
Not because it was being forced.
But because the world itself welcomed the three sacred treasures.
The River Goddess looked at the young boy standing before her.
The child she had once watched playing beside a river…
Had grown into someone worthy of carrying the hopes of countless lives.
She smiled warmly.
“…Continue walking.”
“There will come a day…”
“…when not only Fairy Britain…”
“…but countless worlds…”
“…will need someone willing to protect them.”
Ren quietly nodded.
“I will.”
The goddess slowly began dissolving into countless droplets of light.
Before disappearing completely…
She looked once more toward Mélusine.
“Take care of him.”
The tiny spirit immediately nodded.
The goddess laughed.
“I thought so.”
Then…
She vanished.
The river returned to normal.
The moon quietly reflected upon its peaceful surface.
Ren stood silently beneath the night sky.
Gungnir rested across his back.
Excalibur hung at his waist.
Rhongomyniad stood planted beside him.
Three legendary divine weapons.
Each entrusted to him by a different guardian of Britain’s history.
Morgan looked at him before smiling.
“…Looks like our journey just became much heavier.”
Ren laughed.
“…Literally.”
The two siblings shared a quiet laugh as Mélusine happily floated between them.
Far away…
The first rays of dawn slowly appeared beyond the horizon.
Their journey across Fairy Britain…
Had entered a new chapter.
End of Chapter 19