Chapter Six: The Gift (Please Support)

“Are those frost giants real?”

After recounting the tale for nearly an hour, Kael finally paused to take a sip of water and soothe his throat. Just as Kael stopped, Morgana, who had been by his side the entire time, quickly handed him a glass of wine. Seizing the moment Kael took a drink, Arthur immediately seized the opportunity to ask a question.

“Arthur! Kael just returned and needs rest. You can’t keep pestering him with questions!” Before Kael could speak, Morgana interjected sharply, clearly displeased. She had waited so long for Kael’s return, only to have him pulled away by these others, bombarded with questions, leaving no time for her.

Although Arthur resented being lectured by his sister Morgana, he recognized the truth in her words. This was supposed to be a welcome feast for Kael, yet they had been relentlessly grilling him about his stories. It was quite rude.

Kael, however, didn’t mind much. It had been ten years since he last saw Arthur and the others, and he was eager to talk with them. “It’s fine, I’m not tired,” he said, patting Morgana’s hand to reassure her.

Morgana blushed slightly at Kael’s gesture, while Arthur paid no attention to his sister’s reaction. He only cared that Kael said he was fine, giving him the green light to continue his questioning. Such straightforwardness was typical of a man with little emotional tact.

Seeing Arthur’s eager thirst for knowledge, Kael wasted no time. He immediately instructed the servants nearby to bring up his belongings. This trip, Kael had prepared a considerable number of gifts.

Before long, a group of servants entered carrying numerous small bundles, even pushing in several carts. The others, who had been drinking quietly during Kael’s break, were drawn over by the sight of so many items. Most knew Kael had brought many things back, but none knew what they were. Curiosity naturally stirred — having heard Kael had traveled the world, they were eager to discover what strange and exotic treasures he had returned with.

Kael ordered two servants to carry up a large, square package and then asked Arthur to open it. Arthur rushed over eagerly, with Merlin right at his side, unwilling to be left out.

Merlin had once believed the magical world was already bizarre enough and took a bit of pride in that. But today, he realized just how vast the world beyond truly was. His own knowledge suddenly seemed insignificant.

Now, more than ever, he longed to learn about the outside world. After all, given his fate, he might never leave Camelot in his lifetime.

---

With Merlin’s help, Arthur didn’t need to struggle unwrapping the package himself. Merlin was more than willing to assist.

In a few swift motions, Merlin unveiled the package’s contents: a large, square iron box, exquisitely crafted and clearly no ordinary item. Merlin glanced at Arthur, who nodded, and with effort Merlin lifted the lid.

What he saw inside startled him so much that he dropped the lid in shock.

“Ahhh!!!” Merlin’s scream was as piercing as a soprano’s, sharp enough to startle everyone present.

Arthur, though pale-faced and stepping back in fright, was far more composed and refrained from making such an embarrassing outburst.

“What is that?” Arthur asked, his voice trembling as he pointed inside the iron box.

Their reactions piqued the curiosity of the others, especially King Uther. He was somewhat disappointed in Arthur’s timidity. Uther had high hopes for his son to become a greater king than himself, yet Arthur’s current display was far from impressive—barely even adequate.

So Uther rose first and approached the box, determined to see for himself. Upon closer look, he too was taken aback, but more composed, maintaining a stern face.

Still, his words betrayed his feelings: “What the hell is this thing?”

It was rare for King Uther to curse.

Kael, noticing their expressions, smiled. He remembered his own first encounter with this very item hadn’t gone much better. The Asgardian warriors had mocked him for quite some time over it.

“This is a frost giant,” Kael said with a smile, then before anyone could ask more, he continued. “Yes, the frost giant I mentioned. Inside this box is the head of the previous frost giant king, Gneir. He was slain by me and Brilli, the king of Asgard.”

Inside the iron box lay a massive, grotesque head. The skin was a bluish-gray, adorned with ice-like stalactites, as though the giant’s skull was crowned with frozen horns. White icy mist continuously seeped from the box, instantly lowering the temperature in the hall.

---

Kael’s face took on a nostalgic expression as he recounted the head’s history. The last time he returned to Asgard in the North, Brilli was absent, seemingly having gone to another kingdom. Kael didn’t inquire further since Brilli had not returned for months and Kael had given up waiting.

“That was a fierce battle. We fought Gneir and his frost giants on the walls of Asgard for ten days and nights, finally breaking their forces. Then Brilli and I led a pursuit, chasing Gneir for another ten days and nights until we caught him in Jotunheim, the frost giant realm. The final battle on those icy plains ended with Gneir’s death. I nearly lost my life—if not for Brilli’s son, Baal, who exerted every ounce of strength to carry us back from Jotunheim, we might have been trapped forever in that frozen wasteland.”

Though Kael did not elaborate on the battle’s details, everyone could imagine the ferocity of the fight.

Thanks to Kael’s explanation, the others’ initial fear subsided. After all, no matter how terrifying the head looked, it was just a lifeless object. Fear comes from the unknown; once the truth is known, it diminishes significantly.

Only Merlin’s fear deepened. He sensed a powerful magical aura emanating from the head, meaning its owner possessed immense magical power in life. It was the first time Merlin had encountered such a formidable magical being—and to think Kael had killed it... If Merlin’s own abilities were exposed, he feared his demise would be swift and unceremonious.

Hearing the story behind the head, King Uther visibly relaxed.

“Well done, Kael. But why keep the head?” The Celts, among the most civilized peoples in the world, had no tradition of preserving enemy heads—that was a barbarian custom.

Kael grinned broadly. “To cool the place down!”