Rex drew Silent Fang and Eclipse, the air around him crackling with tension. Without hesitation, he lunged at the army, leaping into the sky. Lightning arced wildly around him, and with a single swing of Eclipse, he sliced through a bolt before landing in their midst.
Before the soldiers could react, a wave of lightning erupted from the blade, disintegrating them into ash. Silence fell—but only for a moment. From the shadows, another twenty emerged, eyes wide, weapons trembling.
Rex's gaze hardened. "I need the holy sword to finish this… but for now, Eclipse will suffice."
He moved like a shadow, executing the Shadow Dragon Tail Slash. Time seemed to slow. Soldiers crumpled to their knees, heads rolling with stunned expressions, blood staining the ground. Rex scanned the battlefield. No one remained. He vanished into the night, leaving only whispers of his passing.
At the docks, Cyrus and Sarah prepared the ship. Waves slapped the hull, mist swirling like a living thing.
"Are we not going back for him?" Sarah asked, unease in her voice.
Cyrus shook his head. "No one can defeat the king."
Sarah frowned. "Then what… was that? The shadow, the lightning?"
Cyrus's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. Whoever—or whatever—was there, they were trying to stop the king from reaching you." He thought quietly, That wasn't normal… something bigger is coming.
Rex wandered into a quiet French village, swords at his hip, a figure of power and danger. Villagers recoiled, whispering, eyes wide with fear.
A woman stepped forward. "You need balance… are you searching for the holy sword?"
Rex nodded. "Do you know where it is?"
"Yes," she said. "Go to the center of town. A small blacksmith shop hides it—a sword in the stone. It's too heavy for anyone but the chosen."
Rex approached. The sword's glow was dim, flickering like a dying star. A man stepped forward, falling to his knees. "You're finally here," he whispered, tears in his eyes.
Rex's voice was quiet but firm. "The light… it's fading."
The man's hands shook. "You hold the last piece of Excalibur. With the metal you forged and King Arthur's gold, we will create a sword unlike any other—a longsword that becomes a spear in flight. Its true name will reveal itself… a name of pure light. With it, you will reshape the world. Let's begin."
The forge erupted to life. Flames leapt and twisted, shadows dancing on stone walls. Sparks shot skyward with every hammer strike, spinning like captured stars. Rex felt the sword's energy surge through him, pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.
"Focus your will into the blade," the blacksmith instructed. "It obeys only one who understands its power and purpose."
Rex closed his eyes. Memories of war, of pacifism, of an army waiting to follow him, filled his mind. He channeled everything—justice, protection, and the unyielding desire to remake a broken world.
The metal shimmered, golden veins spreading along its length. The sword trembled, alive. In a blinding flash, it expanded into a longsword, edges sharp enough to cut through shadows.
"Test it," the man said, stepping back.
Rex hurled it toward the stone wall. In midair, it elongated, spinning into a spear before striking deep into the stone. He sprinted, yanked it free, and the blade snapped back into a longsword, flawless and balanced.
"It… it listens," he breathed, exhilaration crackling through him.
The blacksmith nodded. "It is more than a weapon. It is destiny. With this, you will lead, protect, and confront the darkness hiding in the world. But your heart must remain steadfast."
Rex swung the blade. Golden light streaked through the forge, sparks erupting like tiny suns. Outside, the storm paused, acknowledging the birth of a new force.
"This is only the beginning," Rex said, voice low, resolute. "I will carve a path through the shadows. And the world will remember…"
The sword pulsed once, affirming his words. Destiny had chosen its king. Excalibur reborn, the first strike toward reshaping the world had begun.