A platoon of ten soldiers marched through the city streets in the dead of night. As they passed, some residents hurried to shut their windows and douse their lights, trying to avoid the echo of heavy boots striking the stone-paved streets. At the head of the squad was a soldier in a more ornate, almost golden, suit of armor, marking him as their leader.
Their destination was clear: the largest tavern in the city, The Golden Leprechaun. The reason for their march wasn't immediately obvious—at least, not until they turned the corner and saw a crowd gathered outside the tavern. The soldiers pushed their way through, using force as necessary, shoving or even striking with their shields to clear the way. It was more crowded than The Golden Leprechaun had ever been.
The onlookers hurled insults at the soldiers or shouted about the true king having arrived in the city. Some seemed eager to pick a fight, but were restrained by older, wiser townsfolk. At the center of the tavern's commotion sat Merlin, the legendary wizard. He was spinning tales about the latest bearer of the sword, extolling the hero's bravery and recounting the tale of how he had subdued a demon's soul. Merlin's words were an attempt to rally support for the coming revolution. The tavern was so packed that it was difficult to reach him, but the soldiers found a way.
The golden-armored captain stopped in front of Merlin, who barely seemed to notice him. The wizard's demeanor conveyed that he didn't view this man as a threat.
"Hello, Merlin."
The soldier's voice, muffled by his closed helmet, carried clearly enough to draw a faint, uninterested glance from the wizard. Merlin, still seated, responded with cold indifference.
"Just say what you came to say. Do you think brute force will extinguish the flames of revolution? Do you expect these people to forsake the rightful heir to the throne?"
The soldier stood silently for a moment, as if waiting for Merlin to continue or offer more resistance. The tension in the tavern was palpable; the once lively chatter had given way to a cautious quiet, as all eyes watched what would unfold. Even the tavern keeper, flustered, hastily closed out tabs—some inaccurately—and the customers, far too eager to leave, didn't complain.
Seeing that Merlin wasn't going to speak further, the soldier raised his voice to address the room.
"By order of the Council, I declare that the army will remain neutral in the contest for the throne. I am here to deliver a message: King James III invites the challenger to a duel. The duel will take place in the arena at noon today—eight hours from now. I also announce that, by provisional decree, James III is officially the King of Brittany, and his coronation will follow the duel."
Merlin, who had been listening intently, now retorted with a sharp tone.
"And who said we accept this duel? More importantly, who said we'll step into an arena surrounded by guards ready to stab us in the back?"
"Am I to take this as a refusal from your so-called king?" the soldier inquired. "If so, then James—"
"No!" Merlin interrupted. "But know this: if you try anything, the blood of innocents will be on your hands. If this is a trap, I will summon an explosion large enough to destroy this entire city. Are we clear?"
"As I said," the captain replied calmly, "the army will remain neutral until one of the two claims the throne. Besides, we know you're bluffing. You haven't wielded that much power since your goddess abandoned you."
With that, the soldiers turned to leave. The crowd began murmuring as Merlin, sensing he had lost his audience and the atmosphere had grown tense, opted to vanish. In his usual fashion, the wizard disappeared into a swirl of fabric, leaving the tavern in the blink of an eye.
"Hey! He didn't pay his tab!" the tavern keeper cried out, furious.
Merlin reappeared in front of Asclepius, the young heir, inside the training arena of the tower where Ascle had first received his basic combat lessons. Asclepius had dug himself a shallow pit in the sandy ground and was curled up asleep next to the sword.
"What in the world are you doing?" Merlin barked, kicking Ascle awake.
<<"ALERT! DIRECT ATTACK!">>
In an instant, Asclepius transformed into a snake, reacting instinctively. He had no idea what was happening but wanted to surprise his attacker. Coiling tightly around a scrawny leg, he constricted with all his might, only to realize he had ensnared Merlin himself, who let out a pained grunt.
Quickly shifting back to his human form, Asclepius helped the old wizard up.
"My apologies, Sir Merlin! You startled me, and I've developed a sort of sixth sense... Are you alright?"
Merlin groaned, rubbing his sore joints where Asclepius had coiled around him.
"Why were you sleeping in a hole in the ground?" the wizard asked, still wincing.
Asclepius blushed, a little embarrassed, sand falling out of his clothes as he stood.
"I couldn't find the rooms. The tower's like a labyrinth. So I remembered when I was a hatchling and burrowed into the sand."
Merlin stared at him in disbelief, struggling to comprehend that this was the future king of Brittany. After a long, incredulous look, the wizard waved the matter aside.
"Never mind that. Where is Lancelot? The war is over. We need to prepare you for a duel with James III."
Merlin's urgency felt odd. The Voice of God had assured Asclepius earlier that he could simply sneak into the castle and kill James. There didn't seem to be a need for panic.
"Isn't James weak? I mean, I've never seen him, but I can't imagine he's a real threat. Do I really need to prepare for just a duel?"
"Do not underestimate James, Asclepius! This has the hands of those damn ministers all over it! They may be many things, but they are not fools. Something feels wrong here," Merlin warned.
At that moment, Lancelot entered the arena, looking different once again. This time, he appeared more mature, with a face reminiscent of the one Asclepius had seen when they first met. A beard had grown in, giving him a rugged, tribal look. His entire body was adorned with tribal markings, though his legs were still covered by the same old trousers.
"What in the—? You've already reshaped the homunculus body?" Merlin said, clearly impressed.
"It wasn't hard, Merlin. Asclepius here helped out, he expended so much energy that I could break through the mattress of reality. But it's early, man. Do we really need to rush through his training like this?"
"We have eight hours," Merlin replied grimly.
"Forget it."
"What do you mean, 'forget it'?"
"I mean forget it! You expect me to teach him sword techniques in eight hours? Or what? Explain every detail about skill points and how he can use them? He's barely grasped the fundamentals."
"Do you expect me to teach him magic in that time?" Merlin shot back. "Yes, he killed a demon, but even so, facing a pack of rats—especially near a sacred field—that's hardly a true test of strength."
The two continued their argument about how best to train Asclepius, seemingly ready to bicker endlessly.
<<"Sir, I believe that you shouldn't be concerned. Hardly any human could beat you. Merlin and Lancelot are exceptions. But if Merlin wants to train you so much, we could try to force your body to adapt to some damage type trough Adaptation granted by the Preparation skill">>
Asclepius, growing tired of their debate, spoke up.
"I have an idea."
Both men turned to look at him, curious.
"Do you have a jar of insects? As long as I keep consuming live creatures, I'll stay healthy. If I survive a specific kind of damage long enough, one of my skills will grant me resistance."
Merlin looked skeptical, unconvinced that this would be enough to help, but Lancelot seemed intrigued.
"Well, Merlin, it's better than nothing. If it's a duel, I can slash him repeatedly until he builds resistance. I'm good enough with a legendary skill to make sure I don't kill him."
The wizard disappeared and returned in a flash, tossing a jar filled with centipedes at Asclepius. They weren't appetizing, but they'd have to do.
Time passed as they prepared for the duel. Asclepius was tied to a wall, and, using his Snake Form, he transformed his tongue and the inside of his mouth into dozens of tiny snakes. The plan was straightforward: Lancelot would use a dull dagger to cut Asclepius in thousands of places until his condition became critical, at which point Merlin would throw a centipede into his mouth to be shredded by the snakes, triggering the Bloodlust skill to heal him.
On paper, it seemed simple. In practice, however, the pain was excruciating. Despite Asclepius's screams, they continued with the plan, pushing him through the agony so he could face James III with greater resilience. Hours passed, filled with pain and torment. Asclepius's previous life, devoid of such intense suffering, only made the experience worse.
To Asclepius, it felt like an eternity. His body was covered in blood, scars, and shredded centipede remains by the time he finally heard the system's voice.
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"Stop! I did it! I did it!"
With about an hour left before the duel, Lancelot looked utterly drained. He had used his abilities to the point of exhaustion, and I could swear he was on the verge of collapsing before I did. The jar, once overflowing with insects, now had only a few left at the bottom. I had no idea it would be so grueling to build up a resistance, but at least I'd gotten my Pain Inhibition skill back as a bonus.
"Let's rest for a bit, and then we'll head out," Merlin suggested, and everyone in the room quickly agreed.
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.
.
When the time finally came, Merlin teleported us directly into the city's grand arena. The blinding light of the noonday sun hit my eyes, forcing me to squint. In that brief moment of blindness, Merlin had already disappeared from my side, and I was greeted by a deafening roar from the crowd surrounding me.
"SAVE THE KING! HE'S HERE!"
As my eyes adjusted, I could finally see the arena packed with people—it felt like the entire city had come to witness the event. And standing across from me was James III. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
But don't get me wrong, it wasn't admiration I felt. The man before me looked almost lifeless. His skin was ghostly pale, and his eyes carried an eerie emptiness. From a distance, no one in the audience would likely notice, but up close, James looked like he was barely alive, almost like a walking corpse.
<<"Master, something strange. Weaknesses is identifying his entire body as a weak point, and there's something beneath it… another weakness.">>
It must be his heart. Maybe he's so weak that there are no strong points to him at all.
"So, you finally decided to show up... I thought you'd chicken out," James sneered, baring a smile that for a moment looked as if it had two rows of teeth.
I drew Excalibur and pointed it directly at him. "Are we doing this or not?"
"Calm down, boy. Let them announce us first."
A voice echoed through the arena, as if magically amplified, like a sports commentator calling out the match. The announcer introduced both of us, explaining why each of us was fighting for the throne. There was an undeniable bias in his tone, clearly favoring the current king and painting me as unworthy.
The arena itself was impressive. High walls surrounded us, with various weapons hanging on them—gladiators likely used them in their fights. There were pillars, spikes, even cages with wolves and tigers ready to be released for spectacle. It was clear that anything could be used in combat here, but I had no intention of abandoning my sword.
Architecturally, it resembled a grand coliseum—perhaps something like the Colosseum in Rome—but grander, more imposing. I didn't have much time to admire it, though; we were nearing the moment of truth.
*And now, the duel that will decide the future of Brittany! THE DUEL TO DECIDE THE KING! THE TITAN'S DUEL!*
As the announcer finished, James launched himself at me, the force of his jump scattering the dust and pebbles of the arena floor. I have to admit, I didn't expect him to be so fast—or so strong.
He struck with precision, and I barely managed to deflect his blows using my sword skills. He continued his relentless assault, his face eerily calm, almost as if he wasn't really present in the fight.
I wanted nothing more than to force him back, so I used the light from Excalibur to blind him momentarily, then swung a single, decisive strike. To my shock, instead of dodging, James lunged straight into my sword, impaling himself through the heart.
The crowd gasped in unison, their collective shock audible throughout the arena. I could swear I heard James laughing. His soul was immediately drawn into me, and Artemis—without hesitation—consumed it.
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Strangely, even with his soul gone, James took a few staggering steps backward. The wound where my sword had pierced him began to blacken, and it looked as though his skin was being sucked into something beneath him. He howled in agony.
Without much time to think, I quickly chose the spirit I'd seen Lancelot use. But the system told me it didn't belong to him. So, I settled for Swordsman. As tempting as Well-Built was, I knew I didn't have time to weigh my options carefully. Taking Lancelot's mind-reading skill was my top priority.
Meanwhile, James continued to scream as his body began to swell, growing larger and more grotesque. The crowd, still confused, was growing wild with excitement, and I didn't understand what was happening any more than they did.
"You... What have you done? You've cursed me!" James roared.
His skin had turned completely black, and thick tufts of hair began sprouting all over him. In front of me now stood a massive, black-furred ape, towering over the arena floor.
"What have you done to me?" he bellowed, though I had done nothing. I desperately wished Merlin were here to explain what was happening, but it seemed like I had never really been fighting James at all.
The creature's roar echoed through the arena, and before I could react, its body shifted again. This time, it transformed into a hulking black bear, far larger than any bear I had ever seen. Its yellow eyes glowed like molten honey.
"You will pay for this!"
His voice was filled with fury as he lunged at me once more, transformed into this monstrous beast.