The Outcast Boy Drew the Sacred Blade, Unleashing a Secret That Ruined the Kingdom

The Usurper's Wrath

With a single, effortless motion, Arthur pulled the sword upward. The legendary blade slid from the solid rock as easily as a hand slipping from a silk glove. A brilliant, blinding light erupted from the steel, scattering the thick fog and illuminating the dark corners of the gorge. The mocking laughter of the knights instantly died, replaced by a suffocating, terrified silence.

Sir Borin fell to his knees, his eyes wide with utter disbelief. But within seconds, his shock morphed into a wild, venomous rage. He scrambled to his feet, drawing his massive battleaxe with a trembling hand.

"This is witchcraft!" Borin roared, his voice trembling with fury. "A nameless peasant boy cannot possess the royal bloodline! You have used dark magic to deceive us all!"

At Borin's command, the heavy-set knights drew their weapons, forming a tight, menacing circle around the young boy. Arthur held the heavy sword in front of him, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had never held a real weapon in his life, and the weight of the steel felt both empowering and terrifying.

But as Borin stepped closer, his furious gaze locked onto Arthur's eyes. The angry knight suddenly froze, his face turning pale beneath his grey beard. He stared at the royal crest gleaming on the sword's pommel, and then back to the boy's face.

"Those eyes..." Borin whispered, his voice suddenly hollow. "You have the eyes of King Alden. The man I... the man who died twenty years ago."

In that horrifying moment, the truth was laid bare. Arthur realized that the man he had served as a servant was the very traitor who had murdered his father and usurped the throne. Borin knew that if Arthur left this gorge alive, the entire kingdom would learn of his treason. With a murderous glint in his eyes, the false king raised his axe high, ready to silence the rightful heir forever.