Merlin threatened me for carrying the soul of his acquaintance, but after about 5 minutes of disbelief, I managed to explain to Merlin the sequence of events that had occurred since my birth, even though I didn't reveal all the secrets. At least it calmed him down to understand what was happening, which wasn't true for Lancelot, on the other hand.
The sword began to speak, its voice metallic and almost robotic:
"You must be joking. I can't even use my skills in this cursed sword form. Honestly, I don't even know how I'm able to communicate."
And Merlin retorted:
"Listen, it's not like you have much to complain about. Both of you are responsible for altering the course of history, but it was you who failed in your mission, Lancelot!"
The sword's voice seemed enraged, although it was difficult to discern emotions in its words:
"They're dead, Merlin! All of them! They didn't have the same luck as me. If the mission failed, it's because your plan was flawed! Now get me out of this damn Excalibur!"
The elderly wizard put his hands to his head as if impatient, but he seemed to accept Lancelot's complaints:
"Well, thanks to the resources spent on the failed mission, I have very few artifacts left. It will take time for me to rebuild my fortune. So I won't be able to create a golem for you to inhabit. However, I can reincarnate you as a homunculus with the help of the demon in question."
It was the first time after a long discussion that Merlin turned his attention back to me, gesturing for me to approach him.
He went to a workbench and picked up a glass jar filled with cinnamon-scented smoke. Opening the lid, the smoke spread throughout the room. From inside the jar, he retrieved a miniature human figure, without a defined sex or appearance—it looked almost like an incredibly realistic anatomical doll.
"Place his soul inside the homunculus. I don't know how to do it; it's not a common skill. I believe it was a fortunate coincidence that you released him directly into Excalibur while I was analyzing you. But I want you to know that there's no prejudice between us because you're a creature of chaos. I myself am the son of a demon. And since you've disrupted my prophecy, you need to assume the throne and fulfill your part of the contract. It's our only hope."
Despite asking for a favor, Merlin maintained his superior posture. My Danger Sensor stopped bothering me when Merlin ceased being aggressive. Still, given the size of the earlier alert, I knew I couldn't refuse a direct request from him. That old man was powerful.
Even for me, it was surprising, but Lancelot's soul was mine to manipulate as I pleased. I extracted the strong energy from the sword and directed it into the lifeless miniature human on the table.
The result was almost instantaneous. Long black hair sprouted, and the facial expressions changed, resembling me quite a bit. The diminutive figure began to speak:
"I must say this isn't the most dignified form. The fact that my soul now belongs to you for whatever you wish doesn't make me happy either. But at least I can use some of my strength again."
Speaking of strength, I could now see his skills. There were only two, but they were beyond my reach, even if I were using his former body. It must be part of the previous contract. The mechanics were straightforward, but they were daunting.
The first skill was a legendary one, known as Swordsman, and had a primary effect called Swordmaster. This would be self-explanatory if not for the second effect: Mind Reading. I believe it should primarily be used for combat, predicting enemy movements. However, he could also use it outside of battle when he read my mind. Nevertheless, his lack of reaction to my current thoughts indicated that he needed to activate the skill. Honestly, Artemis would explain this better, but she disappeared when Merlin arrived.
The second skill was called "Well Built," which seemed contradictory now that he was just a homunculus. It was epic and had only one effect: "Physical Characteristics Augmented." I believe it treated everything he did with his body as if it were epic. Size wouldn't be an issue to him, and I already knew which of the two I would choose when I finished my part of the contract, even if it was of a lower level.
While lost in my internal monologue, Lancelot caught my attention:
"Hey! Have you bound your sword? It's pointless to have an artifact if you don't know how to use it."
"Sorry, but what did you say? Bind the sword?"
"When you acquire magical artifacts, you usually bind them to yourself, idiot! You weren't kidding when you said you just appeared in this world. We do this to access their skills."
This was crucial information—I was clearly unaware of what I had just acquired. It wasn't just an ordinary sword. Without Artemis, I had no choice but to ask:
"And how exactly do I do that?"
"Well, you simply ask the artifact to serve you. If you can use its skills, it serves you. Since it's just a sword, anyone would definitely succeed. But if it were like Merlin's crystal ball, I'd have no chance. You need to manipulate neutral energy to use one of these."
<<"He's right, sir. That's how the binding is typically done. However, he's mistaken about the crystal ball. Skillful use of other energies might still make it work, albeit in a limited way.">>
Artemis! Long time no see! You startled me by appearing out of nowhere, but well, I have nothing to lose, right?
I raised the sword and mentally requested to use it. I felt like an idiot for a few seconds until the sword emitted a faint glow, and the system alerted me:
<
Artemis, could you tell me what this one does? It's much more practical when you explain.
<<"Certainly, sir. Excalibur provides three effects and behaves like a regular skill. The first is called 'Light,' emitting a strong light source in combat without hindering the user's vision. The second is 'Swordmaster,' which you've likely seen Lancelot use. It allows you to wield the sword as if it were an epic combat skill. The third is 'Heir to the Throne,' ensuring that every citizen of the Kingdom of Britanny treats you as a worthy candidate for the throne, although it's somewhat unstable in my opinion.">>
After binding Excalibur, Merlin wasted no time approaching me:
"Quick, Lancelot! Teach him the basics of combat. I'll head to the city and announce the arrival of the heir to the throne. This will upset the prince, incite rebellion, and start a civil war. Since the kingdom is closed off, the war will stay within the walls of Brittanny. We still have a chance to save our mission, Lancelot. Perhaps things will turn out even better than planned."
Without waiting for any protest, Merlin vanished in the same sudden, rapid manner he appeared to me when the sword was pulled from the stone—depending on your perspective, it was almost comical. As for fighting, I already knew what I needed to do; there was no need for Lancelot's interference. After all, I was a trained man in my past life.
"Listen here, I don't care if you were trained by the king, the wizards, or whoever in your world. Things here are different. Skills influence nearly 100% of combat, and when it comes to certain skills, you won't even have time to react."
I interrupted Lancelot abruptly:
"Are you reading my mind again? That's not very polite, you know."
"I couldn't care less. You said you were reincarnated, right? Fine, then follow me. I want to see what you're made of—use everything you've got."
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. That's why we have other ways of using skills in this world."
That made me curious; other ways of using skills definitely seemed interesting. Lancelot continued:
"I can only teach you the basics for now, mainly because we don't have time for advanced manipulation. But it boils down to three simple principles. The first is sacrifice."
He made hand gestures as he explained, seeming not to want to waste a single moment.
"It's simple, though I've never used it myself. You intentionally sacrifice one of your skills using what we call a restriction. By making a vow to yourself, you limit the use of a specific skill in a certain fight, and the Voice of God ensures you truly cannot use it. In return, you gain what we call a point."
"A skill point?"
"Call it that if you like; it's what the Voice of God named it. Anyway, with points, we move on to the next part of combat. Aside from standard movement and exchanging punches, which you must be familiar with, we have the second principle: Change. By using a skill point, you can slightly modify one of your other abilities. For example, if you have resistance to poison, you might change that to resistance to diseases. This makes battles much more dynamic. Finally, there's the most complex aspect, which often decides battles: Convergence."
"What does Convergence do?"
"Imagine a mattress. If you place a stone in the middle of it, the mattress will sink, right? Now, picture your body and soul as the surface, just like your opponent establishes a bridge between their body and soul when using their skills. This creates a sort of 'mattress' in the fabric of reality."
"Okay... go on. I still don't know where you're headed with this."
"When skills clash, it's like you're both throwing stones onto that mattress, denting reality. Convergence is when the most stones converge, attempting to pierce through the mattress."
"I don't think I understand your point."
"Once you pierce the fabric of reality, it's yours to manipulate. Skills converge toward a point until this happens. At that moment, you've established your territory. In other words, whoever pierces the mattress wins, because it's hard to survive when your opponent controls the battle. It's as if they can use Change at will."
"Anything else?"
"Countless things. There are synergies, interactions between conflicting skills that can affect one another. You might be able to render your opponent's skills useless or completely alter their nature. Beyond synergies, there are physical arts for those who don't use magic—much cruder forms of reality manipulation. There are territories and areas of study for each type of skill manifestation. Your own soul manipulation seems to have fascinating potential. There's so much to learn, and so little time to teach it all. That's why I want you to understand how to pierce the mattress, and I want you to help me pierce it during this training."
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 skills 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 skills 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 skills 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.
"FINALLY, you did well boy, we broke through the mattress!"
<
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 I said the prince destroyed my country? It all starts there. About 20 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 using a flame he generated through his finger. 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, Brittanny 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 Brittanny 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.