The air in the forge was thick with heat and tension as the king knelt before Varyk, his royal robes sullied by the journey. His voice trembled, heavy with desperation.
You are our last hope, Varyk. The king said, his hands gripping the soot-stained workbench. No knight, no army, no blade in the kingdom has the strength to face this monster. I beg you—forge a sword unlike any other. A weapon that can save us all...
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