[POV: Alaric Arcwright]
Where the hell is that book?
Alaric Arcwright's gloved fingers trailed over the spines of countless tomes.
The grand library of the Arcwright estate was a labyrinth of knowledge, filled with records.
He knew it was here. Somewhere.
His brows furrowed as he scanned through the endless volumes.
Histories of conquests, treaties between rulers, genealogies of noble bloodlines—none of it what he sought.
And then—.
An ancient leather-bound book, its cover faded and edges worn.
[The Cursed Sword]
He turned the cover, and the first page revealed a date.
~[Arcwright Royal Family Year [005]
A record dating back to the very foundation of his bloodline.
His heartbeat quickened as he flipped through the pages, scanning through the archaic script.
Then, as he turned another brittle sheet—
~The Cursed Sword.
