Beneath the earth, the Stone waited.

  Silent. Patient. Eternal.

  It had watched empires rise like fire and fall like ash. Kings were chosen and unmade by its will. It granted power beyond mortal reach—strength, wisdom, longevity, victory in battle—and withdrew it without mercy. Those who held its favor were immortal. Those who defied it, or proved unworthy, were left to wither under the weight of centuries.

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  Long ago, the kingdoms of the land were fractured, each vying for dominance. But Tharos rose above them all. Its armies were endless, its kings unstoppable, its banners feared across the continent. All other kingdoms bent—or broke—before the might of Tharos.

  And now, centuries later, the Stone lay silent beneath its chamber, awaiting its next decision.

  It would choose again.

  And when it did, the world would tremble.