Arthur stepped out of the ancient tomb and into the cool night air.
The stone doors behind him groaned as they finished opening, ancient runes dimming as the trial's magic receded. The clearing outside was still, lit by moonlight and the faint gleam of mana that clung to the land around the World Tree.
Dozens of elven soldiers stood guard there.
Every single one froze.
Their eyes went wide as they stared at him—at the black-haired boy in worn clothes, crimson eyes calm and alive. Some dropped their spears. Others took a shaky half-step back.
They looked at him as if they had just seen a ghost walk out of a grave.
Arthur glanced around, inwardly amused.
'Well… I did technically walk out of my own coffin,' Arthur thought.
Several soldiers suddenly turned and sprinted toward the palace.
"Inform Her Majesty!" one shouted. "Sir Arthur has come back!"
"Lord Arthur has returned from the tomb!" another cried.
Arthur heard the words clearly.
A smile tugged at his lips.
