Arthur picks up the broken sword, turning it slowly in his hands. The light catches the jagged edge, glinting dully. Grok. This… this is all that’s left of it. A memento of his own stupidity. His own… darkness. Grok. He spits the word out like a bitter taste. He looks at it, and he doesn't see a weapon anymore. He sees a mirror. A reflection of the monster he almost became. Grok.

  He lets out a shaky breath, the memory of the forest flashing before his eyes. His fingers instinctively trace the jagged scar that bisects his left cheek, a constant reminder of that brutal encounter.

  The forest… the goblins… Grok. Gods, what was he thinking? So consumed by hatred, by this burning need to… to prove himself. Prove himself worthy? Worthy of what? Of being as ruthless as he thought he needed to be? He was so blinded by the lies he told himself. Grok. Noah… he saw him as the enemy.

  A Light faction member.

  A target.

  Just a thing to be eliminated. Grok. Ironically, it was Noah's actions, his mercy, that had ultimately led to Arthur's ascension.

  After their clash, after Arthur's humiliating defeat and the permanent mark Noah had left, the goblins, witnessing Noah’s unexpected compassion – sparing Arthur's life – had begun to see Arthur in a new light.

  They saw not weakness, but a strange, twisted kind of strength. A strength tempered by… something else. Something they didn't understand, but something they respected.

  They saw him as touched by a powerful force, someone who had faced Noah and lived. And in their brutal, goblin way, that made him worthy.

  He clenches his fist, the broken sword digging into his palm.

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  The ambush… the goblins falling… Grok. He closes his eyes, wincing. And then, the moment. The lunge.

  His face… the surprise… the pain… He remembers the sickening thud as his blade connected, not where he aimed, but still… a strike.

  Noah’s left hand, severed, falling to the forest floor. But even as he landed that blow, Noah, with a speed Arthur hadn't anticipated, had lashed out.

  A searing pain exploded across his face, the world momentarily going white.

  He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the image of the blood, the shock in Noah’s eyes, and the burning agony of the gash that now marred his face. Grok. It should have been a moment of triumph. It should have been… but it wasn’t.

  It was… sickening. And the worst part? He failed. He failed to even finish what he started. But… that failure… it saved him. Grok. It had also, strangely, made him.

  He looks around at the treasures, a dismissive wave of his hand.

  All this… it means nothing. Less than nothing. Shiny trinkets compared to… to him. Noah. A soft smile touches his lips, even as his fingers brush the scar. Grok. It’s strange, isn’t it? The man he tried to kill… the man he wounded… the man who marked him… He’s… he’s everything he’s not. Everything he wishes he could be. Strong, yes, but not just physically. He’s… he’s good. Truly good. He cares. He sacrifices. He believes. And he… he tried to take that away. Grok.

  He clutches the broken sword to his chest.

  He saw him as an enemy, but he… he’s a mentor.

  Almost… almost a father.

  The father he never had. And he tried to… His voice cracks, and he swallows hard. Grok. He doesn’t deserve his forgiveness.

  He doesn’t deserve his respect. But… he’s going to earn it.

  He’s going to learn from him. He’s going to change. Grok. And he knows… he knows he’ll guide him. Not as an enemy, but… as the man he should have looked up to all along. This broken sword… it’s not just a reminder of his past. It’s a promise. A promise to be better. A promise to become someone worthy of his… of his… fatherly gaze. Grok.

  And this scar… he touches it again… this scar will forever remind him of his shame, and of the man he now strives to emulate. And of the strange twist of fate that made him Goblin King.

  Arthur must evolve, becoming a stronger leader for his kingdom and a steadfast ally to Noah.

  He needs to embrace change, honing his skills and resolve to protect his people and stand by his friend.