[Arthur's POV]
At first, I thought the world I'd been reborn into was just the ancient past — swords, castles, kings, knights — the kind of stuff you read about in history books or watch in old films. Sure, the people spoke strange languages, followed older customs, lived harder lives. But nothing seemed too out of place. I chalked it up to the roughness of the era.
But the longer I lived here, the stranger things became.
The first and most undeniable difference was the existence of magic.
Not card tricks. Not sleight of hand. Not some clever illusion pulled by a street magician.
Real magic.Tangible. Powerful.A force that bent the world's very laws.
I had seen it with my own eyes — Merlin's subtle workings, the shimmering currents of mana in the air, the flickers of light that danced like will-o'-wisps at the edges of my vision. Even the land itself felt alive — the forests, the rivers, the stones — humming faintly with a presence I could only describe as ancient.
At first, I didn't understand it. What newborn would? My earliest memories were little more than blurry shapes, soft voices, warmth and cold, hunger and comfort. But as I grew — as Merlin visited my dreams, as Sir Ector trained me with the sword by day, as my senses sharpened — I began to notice things.
I could feel mana in the air, like a faint static charge brushing against my skin.I could taste it, sharp and metallic, after a summer storm.I could sense it pooling in old places — the ancient stone circles, the twisted oak trees, the deep caves where sunlight never reached.
And I'll be honest — it terrified me.
Because this wasn't just some medieval world of swords and kings.
This was a world of legends.A world of monsters and heroes.A world where prophecies walked beside you in the dark, and the gods still whispered in the corners of the earth.
And somehow, I was right at the center of it.
What little reassurance I had came from one strange fact: the era I was born into was the very end of the Age of Gods.The world was changing.The divine was fading.Humanity's age was about to begin.
But here, in these lands — Albion, Britain — the last embers of the old magic still clung to life. Here, mystery still pulsed in the soil. And I could feel it, even as a child, like a soft hum in the back of my mind.
Something was ending.Something vast and ancient.And when things like that end, they never go quietly.
Merlin once told me that Artoria and I bore the heart of a dragon — specifically, the Red Dragon, the symbol of the Celtic Britons and their struggle against the invaders who would become the English.
He said we weren't just human.We were more.We were the holders of the Element of the Red Dragon — humans born with the blood and magical essence of a divine beast in our veins.
In practical terms, it meant that while a normal magus's body worked like a machine to create magical energy, ours worked like a living factory — a colossal core that generated mana simply through breathing, like a dragon's heart. Merlin speculated that when fully matured, the magical output of such a heart could rival the heat of the earth's core itself.
That should have been enough to overwhelm me — to know that Artoria and I were walking powerhouses, living legends in the making.
But there was one more thing.
A difference between her dragon heart and mine.
In the center of my chest, just beneath the skin, there was something strange.Tiny, faintly glowing purple particles — not part of the Red Dragon's power — drifted inside me, slow and dormant. They weren't like anything Merlin had seen.
When I'd first noticed them — or rather, when Merlin pointed them out during our dream sessions — I had asked him about them, hoping for an answer.
He had looked puzzled, for once.
"These particles…" he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "I've never encountered anything like them. And that rune on your skin — it's written in a script older and more complex than even the primordial runes of the Norse gods."
I remember staring at him wide-eyed. "So… what does it mean?"
He gave me his signature roguish grin, eyes twinkling."Honestly? No idea! But hey, they're harmless so far. And let's be real here — they look cool. Might even help you charm some ladies in your future endeavors, my king."
I sighed.Typical Merlin.
Even now, I didn't know what these particles were or what the rune meant. But one thing was clear — they were mine. They came with me from my past life. Somehow, they had crossed worlds with me, embedded in my soul.
And they were waiting.
For what, I didn't know.
Yet.