"The entire kingdom came to the arena expecting blood.

Inside the vaulted chamber, illuminated by blue ethereal crystals embedded in the ceiling, sat the treasury of the High Kings. Chests overflowing with ancient gold coins, forgotten crowns, and jeweled relics lined the walls.

But sitting in the center of the room, resting atop an altar of white marble, was the legendary blade: Sunfall.

The broadsword was forged from a shimmering silver metal that seemed to absorb the ambient light of the room. Its hilt was carved in the likeness of twin dragon wings, with a massive golden topaz embedded in the pommel.

Leo stepped up to the altar. His hand hovered over the leather grip.

"Legend says that if an imposter touches the hilt, the sword's magic consumes their blood within seconds," Lyra warned, her hand resting on her sword hilt as she watched the vault entrance nervously.

Leo didn't hesitate. He wrapped his fingers firmly around the leather hilt.

A surge of raw, crackling energy rushed up his arm like liquid fire. Images flashed through his mind in a fraction of a second—generations of kings standing on battlefields, his mother's smiling face, the fire that burned his nursery, and the cold, mocking eyes of King Aldric.

With a resonant CLANG that vibrated through the foundation of the entire castle, Leo lifted Sunfall from the altar. The blade ignited with a brilliant, blazing aura of light, illuminating the dark corners of the vault.

Suddenly, heavy iron gates slammed down over the vault exit, trapping them inside.

From the dark corridor outside, clapping echoed through the bars.

King Aldric stepped into view, flanked by twenty heavy crossbowmen and Lord Vane, whose massive broadsword was already drawn.

"I must admit, boy, I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to walk right into my jaws," Aldric sneered, a cruel, triumphant smile stretching across his face. "You opened the vault for me. I've wanted that sword for fifteen years."