The Scorned Stable Boy Drew the Legendary Blade and Unlocked a Royal Secret

The Wrath of the Warlord

The moment Arthur’s grimy fingers closed around the leather grip, a wave of warmth surged through his veins. The ancient runes carved into the steel began to glow with a brilliant, golden light. With a smooth and effortless motion, Arthur pulled upward. The legendary sword slid out of the solid stone as easily as drawing a blade from water, sending a blinding shockwave of light through the foggy canyon.

The laughter of the knights died instantly. A suffocating silence fell over the canyon as Arthur held the glowing blade high. The guards dropped to their knees in sheer awe, whispering of the ancient prophecy. Even Warlord Borin stumbled back, his face turning pale as he stared at the glowing runes. He knew the truth: only someone carrying the royal blood of the Lost King could ever free the blade.

But shock quickly turned to dark, murderous envy. Borin had spent years consolidating power, planning to seize the throne for himself. He could not let a mere stable boy ruin his ambitions.

"He is a thief!"

Borin roared, his voice echoing off the canyon walls.

"He has used dark, forbidden magic to trick the stone! Seize him, or slay him where he stands!"

The knights, snapped out of their trance by their commander's voice, drew their weapons. A ring of steel closed around Arthur. He was trapped in the narrow canyon, surrounded by fifty trained killers, holding a weapon he had never been trained to use. Borin stepped forward, his heavy broadsword raised, ready to strike down the rightful heir and take the sword from his cold, dead hands. Arthur braced himself, the glowing blade trembling in his hands as the guards rushed forward.