The Superior Rebirth: A Hero's Awakening

The Weight of Tomorrow.

The scene continued to unfold as the dragon's dreadful words slithered from his fangs, gripping the hearts of all present with icy fear.

Alcmena began, his voice heavy with an unshakable gravity, revealing that the recently exposed secret project—the one that twisted innocent lives and attempted to turn them into soulless, obedient soldiers—was tied directly to Xavier. He spoke of the day Xavier had fled to Great Britain, guided by a mysterious figure, and how fate led him to the now-destroyed Latin Society. It was then that the veil was lifted: Xavier's true origin came to light.

He had been born to commoners—a simple child, no different from any other—until he was stolen away like countless infants of his generation to serve as an experiment for the notorious "Superior Project." Only by the courage of a single scientist, who sacrificed her own life to save him, was he spared that fate. Yet, Alcmena said solemnly, Xavier's tragedy had only begun.

The revelation struck the room like lightning. Graviil sat in stunned silence, while Aleksander's calm composure cracked for the first time. Violet's hands trembled as she covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Her stomach churned in disgust as the nobles' gasps echoed through her mind. It all felt unreal—a fever dream she desperately wanted to wake from.

But she knew this was no dream.

Aleksander's voice broke through the suffocating silence, rough and shaken. "So... that explains it," he said slowly, almost to himself. "How we found Xavier... in that wooden container aboard the steamer, all those years ago... It was pure luck."

"Indeed," Alcmena replied, his gaze lowering. "That same project is why Xavier possesses no ethereal core. A coreless child—something that should not exist, yet does. Truly, fate is both cruel and curious."

He paused, his tone hardening. "And with that said... I can no longer conceal what must now be spoken." The dragon's voice deepened, resonating through the chamber like thunder. "Xavier—that child—has been chosen by the heavens themselves. He is to become the new hero of this age... the next wielder of the divine blade, Excalibur."

The words tore through the hall like a storm. Disbelief rippled among the nobles—gasps, whispers, trembling eyes. Excalibur? The name itself seemed too sacred, too mythical to be spoken aloud. Some murmured to themselves in shock: It still exists? It wasn't a legend? Others clutched at their chests as if the truth might crush them.

Alcmena continued, his tone calm but commanding. "Yes. The sword of Saint Sabestian still lives. I am its guardian—its keeper through the ages. My duty was to protect it, even if it meant erasing its memory from history."

He leaned forward, his golden eyes narrowing. "But now that your child has been chosen by Excalibur, you all know what that means, do you not?" His voice darkened, rumbling like distant thunder. "A great threat is coming—so dire that the High Lord Himself, the Creator of all, has intervened. He has woven a hero into the threads of fate."

His words hung heavy. "For without Excalibur's light, not only humanity, but all races would face annihilation. A threat equal to that which once walked this world eons ago... Emperor Julius."

A chill swept the room. Alcmena's draconic eyes glimmered as he turned toward Graviil. "You already suspect who this new apocalyptic force might be... don't you, Emperor?"

Graviil's silence said everything. He knew exactly who Alcmena meant. The puppet master of shadows. The man whose ambition had twisted the world itself.

Percival.

The name alone stirred dread in Graviil's soul. He had always known Percival was dangerous—but not this dangerous. Origin's direct intervention meant one thing: this man could not be allowed to live.