The Test

Tiny Lancelot guided me through Merlin's tower. The space there was contradictory—rooms ten times larger than the previous ones, literal mazes through doors, trapdoors that defied reality's rules, allowing you to walk on the ceiling. It seemed like just a tower, but in truth, it was an entire magical mansion.

We walked along winding paths until we reached a dungeon. In the cells, I recognized some humanoid prisoners—werewolves, lizardmen, hobgoblins, even an ogre and other mythical creatures. It appeared to be a prison that stretched for miles.

Despite the prisoners' screams, no sound emerged from the cells. Literal bowls of rations were regularly dispensed to them, along with water. I wasn't sure if they were truly a danger to society or merely enemies of Merlin and the ancient association to which Lancelot once belonged (now extinct).

Our journey concluded in an underground arena. The architectural work throughout the place was truly magnificent. It reminded me of games I played as a child on emulators—ones where I hunted Dracula throughout his castle.

Lancelot stopped on the other side of the arena, leaped to grab a dagger embedded in the wall, and wielded it like an absurdly large sword from a video game character.

"Come on, your goal is to disarm me. If you succeed, you should be able to bypass any defenses protecting the prince. After that, I'll intentionally choose one of the monsters that poses a significant challenge for you. Remember, I believe I set a time limit in our contract, so you'd better accomplish all this in less than three days."

That guy was audacious. If he thought I'd struggle against him, especially with this new sword, he was sorely mistaken.

I took the initiative, activating Excalibur's Light and then Stealth to conceal my attack's origin. Using Swordmaster, I aimed directly at the dagger, and to leave no escape, I had prepared Ace in the Hole to capture his weapon.

At least, that was the plan. Instead, what followed was a naked homunculus walking through the light with eyes closed, heading toward me as if it were easy for him to find me. He ignored my Stealth and deflected each of my Swordmaster strikes, likely using his own abilities.

Finally, he effortlessly caught the dagger with one hand, mocking my use of Ace in the Hole. Preparing to attack me, I hurled myself away as quickly as possible, partially transforming into a snake for better mobility.

He had neutralized my assault.

"It's simple. I saw you snooping around my skills, so you must know what I can do. The light was a good trick to try and nullify my Well Built, but too bad I don't need sight to locate opponents. Stealth won't work when I have a legendary skill passively reading your thoughts. My Swordmaster surpasses yours, and I stopped your Ace in the Hole purely with physical strength from my Well Built."

His words annoyed me slightly, but more than that, I was genuinely impressed by the quality of his skill usage.

"Having a thousand skills won't help if you can't focus on any of them properly in combat. I only needed three effects to counter what you threw at me, and they're extremely straightforward. Let's go again—come at me."

What followed was nearly two hours of attempting to disarm a wily gnome who gave me no openings. I couldn't even exploit his weaknesses; I simply couldn't find any vulnerabilities.

It reached a point of sheer frustration—those abilities were utterly unfair.

"Unfair? You have no idea what something unfair truly is. I don't know where you come from, but if you want to attack me—even with the simplest strike—no matter how big you are, brute force won't solve it. You need to learn to fight with an empty mind."

"You say that as if it's easy. I've spent my entire life being informed of the attacks I'd make, confirming actions, discouraging advances, leading a team—multiple brains connected at once. Do you realize how difficult it is to clear my mind?"

He shook his head disapprovingly.

"From what you've told me, you were born with the damn abilities you have. You came to this world full of conveniences, even possessing a legendary skill. Yet, you don't know how to use half of what you've got. It's like a monkey throwing every item within reach at an enemy, hoping to kill them. Think about it—I trained every day of my life to acquire the two abilities I have, all with the purpose of avenging my country from the bastard responsible for my country's downfall. And you call it unfair that I beat you? Come on, let's go again—give it your all this time, even use the ritual you claim to have learned. Try."

That was it. I was finally tired of that fight. If he wanted me to attack him with the intent to kill, that's what I'd do. Let's curse him and make him regret it.

My eyes turned red, just like the first time I used the ritual. The ground trembled as if the tower were collapsing, and the sand of the arena began to shift like quicksand.

A colossal claw emerged, even larger than me. A gigantic scorpion rose from the ground, placing me above it. My demonic voice echoed through the arena.

"Want to know the difference between us? You can't nullify a legendary ritual!"

The arena's sand transformed into scorpions of the same color. A sea of monsters tried to grab his dagger, yet none dared to approach. Then, I received a system message.

<<Lancelot's Ability Reactivated: Curupira, Forest Demon>>

Meanwhile, Lancelot laughed and said:

"Ah, old friend, you've finally found my new body."

Behind Lancelot, a figure much larger than him appeared—an ethereal dwarf. His feet were turned backward, his body hairy, his teeth green, and his hair and eyes aflame. He raised his hand toward the scorpions and commanded:

"Disappear!"

And just like that, I watched my ritual dissipate before my eyes. I fell from the scorpion, and Lancelot mocked me as he approached.

"For today, that's enough. You passed the test, but apparently, I could nullify your ritual."

Furthermore, his body's stature seemed to revert to a common height, rather than just a few centimeters. Although he resembled a homunculus, various indigenous-style markings covered his skin. This world was truly fascinating—even his skin tone had changed. He looked just like a normal human now.

.

.

.

Time passed as I found food in the tower and rested. I hadn't seen Lancelot until now. But in the middle of the night, he appeared, also searching for food, and struck up a conversation. He was now wearing clothes, though he had nothing to hide. The markings remained.

"Six days left until you kill the prince, right? Maybe I was a bit strict with the deadline. Let's hope you won't have to sacrifice what you've got."

At that moment, I didn't care. So, I went straight to the question that mattered to me:

"What the hell happened back there?"

"The little fire guy? To explain, I'd have to tell you my whole story. Interested in hearing it?"

The question was almost rhetorical; I had nothing better to do in this medieval world. It wasn't as if I could simply say no and go to sleep. The problem was that I forgot Lancelot could read my mind now.

"Well, since it's like that, do you remember when you said the prince destroyed my country? It all starts there. About 23 years ago, more or less, that damned prince convinced his father that enslaving everyone would be worthwhile. Our country was small; I had just been born. It was a time of celebration in the kingdom due to my birth—I was the prince. The siege lasted about eight years, during which I witnessed countless tragedies while still too young to fully understand. A war-ravaged country, my people enslaved and starving. Can you imagine what that's like?"

No, I couldn't, but I didn't want to say so, even though I knew he could read my thoughts.

"Eight years after the siege began, there was nothing left to do. They finally breached the castle, finally killed my parents. But I escaped. I ran aimlessly for what felt like days. No one cared enough about a prince without a kingdom to come after me. They assumed I was dead anyway—it wasn't worth searching for me."

He paused to take a swig from a bottle of cane liquor he found in Merlin's kitchen. He also lit a cigar to smoke. It was amusing that such things existed in this world, even though I had no idea when they were invented in my own. Then he put his feet up on the table to continue the story, as if it were the most ordinary tale. I didn't protest; he seemed to be enjoying having a normal body again.

"But I didn't die. I ended up in the middle of the forest, starving for days. Then I came across a wild dog. Terrifying for a child—you have no idea. And that's when my great friend saved me from being eaten alive: Curupira, the Forest Demon. Or Father of the Woods, if you prefer. He's a chaotic creature, but he has no malice in his heart. Like Father of the Woods, he became my father too, just as he was for many orphaned children in the kingdom. He taught us manners, taught us to fight. They were my family—the Belles Roses."

It seemed he was holding back tears as he drank straight from the cane liquor bottle. It wasn't an easy story for him to tell, even if he was trying to act like it was.

"Then it happened again. This time, Brittain needed wood to expand the city—can you believe it? They invaded the forest, and Curupira went to protect it; it was his duty. He always defended the animals and the woods. And for the second time, James III killed my father. But Curupira doesn't die; he's the spirit of the forests. He chose me to continue our fight against Brittain until he could rebuild his body. That's how I gained my ability. But the tyrant's reign of terror ends now. I don't care how many heads I have to step on."

At that moment, he choked, literally coughing up flames. Curupira didn't seem to appreciate the way he was speaking, and I was too shocked by his life story to react. People didn't live like this in my world. Still, I decided to ask.

"Even so, that doesn't explain how your appearance changed."

Lancelot replied, 

"Homunculi are empty vessels, just like my body when I handed it over to you. You changed my appearance. And both me and Curupira altered the homunculus's form. Anyway, I'm going to bed. I recommend you do the same. Merlin is assembling the army you'll lead, and I'll be with you in the final battle against the tyrant. Don't be fooled by the beautiful city he has. Good luck finding your room."

And so, with a bottle of liquor and a cigar, Lancelot bid me farewell that night.