When he woke up, he found himself middle of a massive forest.
He lay there, staring up at the massive tree looming above him. The last thing he remembered was walking through the door—then total darkness. And now, he was in the middle of nowhere.
He didn't dislike it, he liked it. It reminded him of home. The wind felt nice on his skin, and birds were singing somewhere on the tree.
Slowly, he got to his feet and gave a long satisfying stretch. That's when he realized he was completely naked. Looking down, he raised an eyebrow.
"Nice."
A trail ran through the forest ahead, so he followed it. No plan, no idea where it led—just trying to find a way out.
Eventually, the path split into two. He stood there thinking, and after a few seconds, did the most reasonable thing he could think of. He closed his eyes and spun around. After about twenty dizzy turns, he stumbled forward with no clue where he was going.
Once his balance returned, he realized he'd taken the left path. It led him to a dead end.
A wide, foggy river stretched out before him. The water was clean but impossible to see through. Mist clung to the air. Next to the river, beneath a huge tree, stood a giant rock. From the center of the rock, a sword was sticking out.
His eyes lit up. Finally—something to defend himself with.
Climbing up the rock, he grabbed the sword and pulled. Nothing. He grunted and tried again. Still nothing.
"Damn you," he muttered under his breath.
As he tugged one more time, footsteps echoed nearby. He froze.
He started to panic. The last thing he needed was someone catching him like this—naked, trying to pull out a sword in the middle of nowhere. Without hesitation, he climbed up the tree beside the rock and hid behind a thick curtain of leaves.
A group of men entered the clearing. The one leading them looked important—confident, tall, and clearly in charge. Five others followed behind him, laughing and chatting like old friends.
One of them called him Arthur Pandragon.
Each man tried to pull the sword, but none succeeded. Then Arthur stepped forward. Without any effort, he pulled the blade free. As he raised it, a glowing sheath formed around it.
Sylas watched from above, but the leaves still blocked his view of Arthur's face.
Then it happened.
One of the men suddenly stabbed Arthur. Then another. Then another. One after the other, they all turned on him and stabbed him repeatedly.
Arthur collapsed face-first on the ground, motionless, and the group instantly started to argue over who would take the sword and claim the title of king. Tensions rose, voices grew louder—and first came screaming threats, then came the sound of blades clashing.
They turned on each other.
Within seconds, every last one of them lay dead. All except for one man, barely clinging to life.
Sylas dropped from the tree and kicked him in the face, knocking him to the ground. The man looked up in shock. Sylas couldn't tell if it was because he'd been attacked… or because his attacker was completely naked.
Without a word, Sylas grabbed the sword and tried to draw it from the sheath. It didn't move. He tried again. Still stuck.
Then a glowing screen popped up in front of him. Startled, he fell backwards.
[System Notification]
[Trial: Gate of Legends – Stage One Complete]
[Title Acquired: The False King]
[Objective: Convince the Kingdom of Camelot you are Arthur]
[Progress: 0 / 25,000 Believers]
[Hidden Requirement: ???]
[Skill: Crown of Perception – Locked]
[Unlock Condition: Reach maximum believers and hidden requirement]
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"
He scrambled backward, waving his hands at the glowing message. His fingers passed through it like it wasn't even there.
"First I lose my clothes, and now I'm seeing holograms? I think the door dropped me hard on the head."
Leaning in, he read the screen again. The name Arthur stood out.
That was the same name those men had used.
This had to be part of the trial. This was the mission.
Sylas walked over to Arthur's body and turned him over—then froze.
The man looked exactly like him.
"That makes sense," he muttered. "I guess I'll be taking your place, buddy."
He stripped Arthur's body and borrowed the clothes. Now dressed, he stood back and looked around.
What was he supposed to do with the body?
If someone found it, they might think he killed him.
A cold breeze hit him from behind. A whisper. A chill ran down his spine. His body started to shake as he turned toward the lake and spotted a wooden boat drifting toward shore. It was empty.
Creepy.
But something inside him said to put the body on it.
He lifted Arthur into the boat and gave it a gentle push. Slowly, the vessel disappeared into the fog.
Turning back to the trail, Sylas returned to the fork and took the right path this time.
Not long after, a voice echoed through the woods.
"Sir Arthur, where are you?"
Following the sound, he stepped into a clearing.
Five knights stood in perfect formation. Their silver armor gleamed under the sun. Their helms were open-faced, revealing serious, focused expressions. Each bore the symbol of a lion on their chest.
They were just about to say his name—but when they saw the sword in his hand, everything changed.
One by one, they dropped to their knees.
"You have returned, King Arthur."
[Progress Updated: 5 / 25,000 Believers]
Sylas glanced at the glowing screen, then at the knights kneeling before him.
"Let's get moving," he said.
One of them pointed toward a nearby horse. They expected him to ride.
He climbed on, and without a word, they began to guide the horse forward.
Still confused. Still unsure what exactly was going on.
But for now… he is Arthur.
And his goal is to get out of here alive.