They Mocked The Orphan Boy Until He Laid His Hands On The Sacred Blade

The Bloodline Revealed

The moment Arthur's fingers closed around the leather hilt, a strange, resonant hum vibrated through the gorge. It wasn't the cold bite of steel, but a living warmth that surged up his arm and settled deep within his chest. The ground beneath the knights' boots trembled, sending loose gravel cascading down the steep cliffs.

"What is the boy doing?" Sir Kay, Borin's ruthless lieutenant, hissed, drawing his sword. "Step away from the stone, peasant, before I sever your hand!"

But Arthur did not move. He stood frozen, captivated by the sudden influx of memories and strength that weren't his own. As Sir Kay lunged forward to grab him, he snatched Arthur by the collar of his linen shirt, tearing the fabric.

From beneath the rough linen, a heavy silver medallion tumbled out, catching the weak sunlight filtering through the mist. It was a tarnished crest depicting a roaring dragon—the long-lost emblem of the Pendragon dynasty.

Sir Borin gasped, his weathered face turning pale. He staggered backward, staring at the crest and then at the boy's face.

"The dragon..." Borin whispered, his voice trembling. "He carries the seal of Uther. He is the lost heir."

But Sir Kay's eyes did not fill with reverence; they filled with a cold, murderous ambition. The current Regent had paid Kay handsomely to ensure that no true heir would ever return to claim the crown.

"He is an impostor!" Kay roared, turning to the surrounding soldiers. "The Regent ordered us to cleanse this gorge of any who dare challenge his rule. Kill the boy!"

The knights, torn between their loyalty to the crown and the shocking revelation of the boy's heritage, hesitated for only a second. Under Kay's furious gaze, they drew their broadswords and advanced, forming a deadly wall of steel around the young stable boy.

Arthur was trapped, unarmed and surrounded by the realm's deadliest killers. Sir Kay raised his heavy blade, aiming a fatal blow directly at Arthur's exposed neck. Arthur looked at the descending steel, then gripped the hilt of Caliburn with both hands, pouring his fear and resolve into one final, desperate pull.