Prologue

Countless tales of heroes are told, saying that wherever you stand, if you look up at the vast night sky, you will see constellations. These constellations are the remnants and the lives of heroes who once raced across this land. This story is half true, half false.

In truth, heroes who accomplished great deeds etch their stars into the night sky and become transcendent beings known as constellations. So, the part about 'constellations being the lives of heroes' is accurate.

Which part is false, then? It's the notion that 'wherever you stand, looking up at the sky, you'll see constellations.' He raised his head to look at the sky. More precisely, he was looking at the ceiling of the city where he had lived his entire life, thinking it was the sky. It wasn't the vast night sky or the brilliant constellations that reflected in his eyes.

Thick smoke. Numerous ores precariously lodged in the ceiling. Only the artificial light produced by these ores lit up his eyes. In this city, there were neither skies nor constellations.

"Well, of course," he sneered.

How could stars be visible in this city?

...Underground City, Artman.

A place forsaken by even the sun, which shines equally on all things, engulfed in darkness both day and night throughout the year. The city relies on artificial light from ores, as there is no sun.

People from the upper town call this place "Landfill." A place where discarded trash is buried.

* * *

Underground City, Artman.

The inhabitants of this city generally fall into two categories:

Those who were exiled here from the upper town. Or the children born to those exiles.

Among them, he belonged to the latter. Despite not having committed any significant crime, he was born with the fate of living his entire life in this city. Of course, that was his perspective, but it seemed the upper-town folks thought differently.

"To them, children born from trash are naturally trash. By being born, they believe we've contaminated the world, so birth itself is a sin."

This was the typical mentality of the upper town folks and their general attitude toward our city. According to their logic, he was a sinner from birth, doomed to rot in this city for life.

"...Poor kid."

"Such a pity for the young one."

Many sympathized with him, but their pity wasn't exactly pleasant. He was ignorant of how the outside world looked.

The warm sun they spoke of. The vast green fields. The blue sea stretching beyond the horizon.

He had never seen them, nor could he imagine them. It's difficult to long for things you can't envision. Honestly, he had no significant interest in the outside world.

Except for just one thing.

"Stars."

He muttered thoughtlessly.

"Stars, constellations, heroes."

He reached out and grabbed a fairy tale book.

It was a book he had stumbled upon in his youth, titled "The Chronicles of Arthur." A worn fairy tale book he had read countless times. "The Chronicles of Arthur" is a tale of a hero.

It tells the life of a hero who lived hundreds of years ago. In the story, Arthur drew a sword embedded in stone, which no one else could, and traversed the continent armed only with that sword.

As a knight. And as a hero.

Arthur, who saved many and defeated numerous demons, became a constellation at the end of his journey. The thirteen feats he accomplished turned into stars and were engraved in the night sky.

"Constellations."

He opened the last page of the fairy tale book.

It was the page he had looked at the most, depicting Arthur's constellation. He silently observed the constellation, filling an entire page.

Thirteen stars. A constellation shaped like a sword, formed by connecting stars.

As he gazed at the constellation, a brief phrase next to the illustration caught his eye.

"Wherever you are on this land, if you look up at the sky, you will see stars."

He looked up at the sky.

Naturally, there were no stars to be seen.

"They're not visible, damn it."

A sigh escaped his lips. Yes, he wasn't interested in other aspects of the outside world, but... he did want to see that constellation with his own eyes.

He didn't know why. He just wanted to see the stars. A simple curiosity, a fantasy. It was a dream unlikely to come true, no different from a delusion.

"Life."

As he gazed up at the sky, a thought occurred to him.

Indeed, there was such a saying. Don't insult the stars while looking up at the sky. The stars can hear your voice as long as you see them, wherever you are.

'The stars can't hear insults if they're not visible.'

In his mind, he visualized Arthur's constellation and raised his middle finger towards the sky, uttering a light curse. A provocative insult that Arthur, if he could hear, wouldn't be able to ignore, suggesting he was merely a lucky man of his time.

One second, two seconds, three seconds... a minute passed.

Naturally, no divine punishment fell. That's how it is, he supposed. He sighed and stood up. There was much to do today.

"Sigh."

He wished for divine punishment to fall. It seemed better than living this dull life.

A short while after the boy left his spot.

Above the underground city of Artman, above the vast city built above it, in the broad night sky, a constellation sparkled. It wasn't Arthur's constellation that the boy had seen in the fairy tale book.

Not the constellation of thirteen stars forming a sword.

But a calm constellation, like a peaceful lake guarding beside it.

A gentle lake holding stars so that its deeply sleeping king could rest his eyes in peace. The usually tranquil constellation suddenly scattered a brilliant light. It seemed almost like the fury of a star.

Constellation, the Staff of Selection.

The constellation that accompanied Arthur from the beginning to the end of his journey.

The Wizard of the Lake, Merlin.

Merlin's constellation, shaped like a lake, violently rippled. Her true form, deeply seated within the constellation, glared down at the earth with wide eyes. The voice of a presumptuous boy echoed in Merlin's ears.

Arthur was just a fortunate man of his time. He would have been nothing in this era.

Annoyed? Wanna go at it?

Then come and bring down your divine punishment.

It was an incredibly insulting speech, so vague and broad that Merlin hardly knew where to start criticizing. For the first time in a while, Merlin felt warmth in the back of her neck.

"Wow."

Merlin chuckled and swept back her hair. Her light blue and white hair rippled down her slender fingers.

"What kind of insane person is this?"

Merlin's eyes blazed with anger.

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