THE KING WHO HAD NO MAGIC

"I spent ten years bleeding for a crown that was designed to kill me."

The arena floor was slick with the sweat of three high-mana nobles who couldn't understand how a commoner’s steel was at their throats. I didn't breathe hard; I just held the point of my practice blade against Lord Varick’s Adam's apple.

"Yield," I said. My voice was a flat line.

"You're a fluke, Jack!" Varick hissed, his face purple. He tried to channel a fire spell, but I stepped on his wrist. The bones popped. He screamed, and the flame died in a puff of pathetic smoke.

"Yield, or the next sound is your windpipe," I countered.

"I yield! I yield!"

I spun, parrying a lightning strike from the second noble, Julian. I didn't use mana. I used physics. I slid under his guard, hammered my elbow into his chin, and caught the third noble, Marcus, with a spinning back-kick that sent him flying into the stone pillars.

The crowd went silent. The Knight’s Trial was over. I had won.

I stood in the center of the ring, looking up at the royal dais. "The trial is concluded. I claim my right to the knighthood."

The High Priest stepped forward, but a shadow fell over the sun. Malakor descended from the balcony, his black cape billowing like a shroud. He didn't walk; he floated on a cushion of dark mana.

"A commoner in silver armor," Malakor mused, his voice carrying to the back of the stadium. "It’s like putting a silk saddle on a pig. It still grunts, and it still reeks of the mud."

"I defeated your champions, Malakor," I said, gripping my hilt. "The law is absolute."

"The law is for humans, boy. You? You’re an error in the ledger." Malakor looked at the judges. "Do you really intend to let this... peasant... represent the crown?"

"He passed the trials, My Lord," the Priest stuttered.

"He cheated," Malakor snapped. "He must have. There is no mana in his veins, only dirt. Jack, look at me."

I stared him down. "I'm looking. All I see is a coward who's afraid of a man with a real sword."

Malakor’s eyes flashed violet. "Bold. Let’s see how bold you are when the world sits on your shoulders." He didn't draw a weapon. He simply raised a single finger. "Weight of Sin."

The air didn't just get heavy; it turned into lead. My knees buckled instantly. It felt like an invisible mountain had been dropped onto my spine. I heard my own joints grinding.

"Get up, Knight," Malakor mocked, stepping over the railing and landing softly in the dirt in front of me. He looked down at me as I pressed my forehead into the dust. "Where is that commoner pride now?"

"Go... to hell," I wheezed, my ribs cracking under the magical pressure.

"I'm already there, Jack. And I brought a gift." Malakor leaned down, whispering so only I could hear. "You think this was a trial? This was a culling. And you just made yourself the primary target."

He raised his foot and slammed it onto the back of my head, grinding my face into the grit. "The knighthood is revoked. Throw this trash into the gutters where he was found."

"You... won't... stop me," I choked out, blood filling my mouth.

"I won't have to," Malakor laughed, turning his back on me. "The blade is already broken, Jack. Look at your hand."

I looked. My sword—the one I had carried for a decade—wasn't just snapped. It was turning into black ash, dissolving into my skin. A searing heat traveled up my arm, heading straight for my heart.

"What did you do?" I roared, but it came out as a gargle.

"I didn't do anything," Malakor said, looking back over his shoulder with a cruel smirk. "Your own blood is rejecting you. Tell me, Jack... did you really think you were human?"

The ground beneath me began to glow with a rhythmic, pulsing red light. The stadium started to shake, and the sky turned the color of a fresh bruise.

"The seal is breaking," Malakor whispered, his eyes widening with genuine shock. "Wait. This isn't—"

A massive explosion of shadow erupted from my chest, throwing Malakor back. I felt my consciousness slipping, but through the haze, I saw the High Priest pointing at me in pure terror.

"He's not a commoner!" the Priest screamed. "Guard the gates! Close the gates before it wakes up!"

Everything went black, but I could still hear the sound of a thousand glass bells shattering at once.