There it was! He had found it!

Sir Roland the Valiant stepped up to the altar in the centre of the ruined temple and looked at the magnificent sword resting there.

Despite the rest of the temple having fallen into ruin around it, the weapon had remained in pristine condition, the light from the badger knight’s torch glinting off the metal, highlighting the lines of intricate mystical runes running along the length of the blade.

It perfectly matched the description he’d read in multiple texts during his search for the sword. This had to be it. The Dominus Sword! The legendary weapon that was said to make the wielder undefeatable. Even though he was no wizard, had no sensitivity to magical forces, Roland could feel the power radiating from it.

This was what he needed to help his lord, King Syrus, reclaim his rightful throne from his usurper cousin and his army of hired mystical mercenaries.

Gently, he grasped the hilt and lifted it off the altar, marvelling at how lightweight, yet perfectly balanced, the weapon was. He felt a surge of magical energy ripple up his arm from the sword. It felt amazing, euphoric.

Yes! The badger thought. This would allow him to take the throne…

He stopped and frowned. Take back the throne for the King, that was what he had meant to think, right?

The knight’s eyes drifted to the blade and its runic markings. They somehow looked even more impressive up close. He had no idea what they said, but as he ran his gaze along them, glinting and shining and drenched in power, he felt oddly relaxed, so very relaxed and…

…

Sir Roland blinked. How long had been standing there just staring at the sword? He didn’t know, but some degree of time had obviously passed without him realizing it, as his torch was almost burned out.

He should get going, he told himself, rather than stand here any longer admiring his new sword, no matter how much it was deserving of admiration. It was a long journey back to the kingdom.

He made his way out of the decaying underground temple the way he’d came, heading for the surface, his thoughts drifting to home. To the throne that would be his…

That thought seemed to come out of nowhere, but seemed oddly right somehow. He was the one who deserved to rule! He was the one who had gone to the trouble of tracking down the Dominus Sword, not that old feeble narcissist lion Sylus!

The badger knight stumbled to a halt, shaking his head. This was ridiculous! He was a loyal knight! He had sworn an oath to the King!

But surely that old fool Sylus wasn’t worthy of oaths, wasn’t worthy of his loyalty? Another part of him argued back.

No! Roland thought. I am no oath-breaker! I… I…

It was suddenly hard to think. He happened to glance at the sword in his paw again, gaze resting on the runes on the blade, and he instantly relaxed, looking them up and down, letting the power and hypnotic beauty of their patterns wash over him…

…

The badger reached the mouth of the cave that had led down to the old temple and stepped out into the sunlight, tossing aside his now completely spent torch, and taking a deep breath…

And he stopped, confused. He didn’t remember the rest of the journey back to the surface. What was happening to him? Why were his thoughts so muddled?

And why was his armour suddenly so tight?

Roland was taken with the sudden urge to strip the now uncomfortable armour from his body and quickly got to work, unbuckling straps and removing plates, not stopping until he was just in his undershorts.

Somehow, he just knew that he no longer needed armour, that the power of the Dominus Sword would protect him from all harm. Much better to allow his enemies to see what he had become, how impressive he now looked…

That thought confused the badger until he saw his near-naked body. Thick bulging muscles now rippled under his fur all over, exuding strength. His entire physique had been transformed into a beautiful muscular display. All the better to intimidate his foes and prove he was both worthy and destined to rule over all!

Rule over all? Surely that wasn’t right? What about the king and his oath…?

They were both unimportant, he now realized. An old lion who had no real right to rule and a collection of now meaningless words that no longer applied to one as powerful as him. By tracking down the Dominus Sword, he had proven that he was the only one who should rule!

And not just his old kingdom, but all of them. He would conquer them all, enslave the minds of all who dared resist, and…

No, this wasn’t who he was! He should conquer and rule all, that was perfectly reasonable. But enslave minds? That was just wrong! Even if he did suddenly know that the power of the sword would allow him to easily do just that…

The sword! That was the problem here! It had gifted him power and muscles and a new insight to his true destiny, but…

As these thoughts tumbled through the badger’s head, he looked at the sword’s blade once again. And once again was instantly relaxed by the sight of its runes, now glinting brighter than ever before in the sunlight.

It was so easy to just relax and let his eyes wander up and down those markings, let his worries and fears and every last thought in his head drift away into nothingness…

…

Roland blinked awake, pulling his gaze away from the sword. More time had passed, the sun was setting. And he instantly realized more had changed.

He was taller now, even more impressive and imposing than he had already been. His claws were longer and sharper. As he flexed his muscles, he noticed small crackles of magical energy shooting along his veins under the skin, and he knew it meant the power of the sword had finished merging with him.

His clothes had changed as well. His undershorts were gone, replaced with a simple and skimpy red loincloth. A flowing red cloak now hung from his shoulders. The badger did not know where these garments had come from. He just decided they were more gifts from the sword and thought nothing more of them.

All his doubts were now gone, he realized. Every fibre of his being knew his true purpose in this world. To conquer every last inch and rule it all with a ruthless iron paw, slaying or enslaving any who had the audacity to oppose him.

He held up the sword, silently thanking it for giving him such clarity. And to think, all those scholars he had consulted had tried to warn him against searching for it, claiming that all the legends said it was cursed, that wielding the sword’s power would enact a terrible cost.

But now he knew the truth, the Dominus Sword was indeed powerful, but there was no curse. And with that thought in mind, the former knight set off in the direction of the nearest town, to begin his conquest of the world and the enslavement of everyone in it…