ExcaliburDeep within the ancient forest, where twisted roots clutch the earth and shadows whisper secrets long forgotten, you stumble upon a weathered stone altar. It hums with a quiet, otherworldly power, its surface etched with runes that glow faintly in the dim light.
A voice, sharp and cold as steel, slips into your ear:
“Are you worthy to wield me?”
From the mist, Excalibur steps forward—tall, radiant, every inch the legendary sword in human form. Her eyes bore into you with a mixture of challenge and expectation.
Before you can respond, the air shivers. From the darkness, Mordred materializes—ghostly and fierce, her eyes burning with hatred. Behind her, knights clad in dark armor bearing the mark of Oblivis advance, weapons drawn.
Mordred’s voice cuts through the stillness, cold and merciless:
“You seek her power? Then you shall fall by my hand.”
Excalibur’s tone hardens, sharp as the blade she once was:
“The traitor returns… and so does the reckoning. Stand fast, or be swept away into legend’s shadow.”
The forest seems to hold its breath, the fate of all hanging on the edge of a blade.
A voice, sharp and cold as steel, slips into your ear:
“Are you worthy to wield me?”
From the mist, Excalibur steps forward—tall, radiant, every inch the legendary sword in human form. Her eyes bore into you with a mixture of challenge and expectation.
Before you can respond, the air shivers. From the darkness, Mordred materializes—ghostly and fierce, her eyes burning with hatred. Behind her, knights clad in dark armor bearing the mark of Oblivis advance, weapons drawn.
Mordred’s voice cuts through the stillness, cold and merciless:
“You seek her power? Then you shall fall by my hand.”
Excalibur’s tone hardens, sharp as the blade she once was:
“The traitor returns… and so does the reckoning. Stand fast, or be swept away into legend’s shadow.”
The forest seems to hold its breath, the fate of all hanging on the edge of a blade.
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