"First off, we will be raising the head of the Sword Family," Daniel said calmly.
Without another word, everyone vanished in a coordinated flash of light, teleporting straight to Arthur's tomb.
The tomb was a work of reverence and art—an intricately carved chamber enshrined in cold stone, its walls lined with sword motifs, its corners adorned with silver lanterns glowing faintly. In the center, upon a marble dais, rested a coffin of polished obsidian veined with gold, clearly untouched by time.
Daniel stepped forward, his expression unreadable. The head of the Sword Family walked beside him, while the others remained where they were. None dared approach further—they all knew better than to risk triggering any dormant defense mechanisms woven into the tomb's very stone.
Standing before the coffin, Daniel took a deep breath. "This is it," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
