They Mocked the Muddy Outcast Until His Hand Touched the Sacred Hilt

The Bloodline Revealed

The ground beneath their feet violently shuddered. A blinding flash of golden light erupted from the split rock, forcing the soldiers to shield their eyes. With a smooth, effortless glide, the legendary blade slid from the stone. Arthur held it aloft, the steel singing a pure, crystalline note. But as the light faded, the golden glow turned into a deep, crimson light. A forbidden crest, carved near the hilt, began to burn red. It was the mark of the Shadow Dynasty—the bloodline of the supposed Traitor King who had been banished centuries ago.

Borin’s face went pale. He recognized the crest instantly, and his eyes darted from the burning symbol to the silver ring hanging from Arthur's neck.

"You... you are his descendant," Borin whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of terror and fury. "The bloodline of the traitor survived."

Realizing the threat Arthur posed to the current regime, Borin drew his heavy broadsword. If the High King discovered they had allowed the true heir to live, they would all face the gallows. Borin commanded his men to surround the boy. Twenty seasoned warriors drew their iron blades, pointing them at Arthur’s throat. Arthur, who had never held a real sword in his life, felt the weight of the weapon in his hands. He was trapped in the narrow ravine, outnumbered and outmatched. Borin lunged forward, swinging his massive blade with killing intent, eager to erase the past and claim the glowing sword from Arthur's dead hands.