A moment later.
John sat by the spring, lost in thought.
"Did I just… travel through again?"
The unfamiliar castle made him wonder if he'd somehow crossed over once more.
His gaze fell on the massive wild boar he had just killed, its sharp tusks severed cleanly with a single stroke.
The sword he used was the one by the spring.
He raised his hand and pressed lightly toward the boar, sending its body flying.
"Magic still works. That's at least some good news."
[Ding, Challenge Mission: Dream Trial. Reward: Free Attribute Point +1]
The task appeared, but with no clear objective.
If John guessed right, this had to be the work of that so-called trial.
Everything here felt far too real. If he hadn't just been startled by the boar, he wouldn't have instinctively grabbed the sword and cut it down.
Brushing the dust off as he stood, he glanced down at the spring.
Its water was crystal clear, giving no sign of being a way back.
Which means, as the name suggested, he had to complete the trial before he could return.
Fortunately, his satchel was still with him. Opening it, he checked inside—nothing was missing, but there was a problem.
His protective charms, rings, and the like had all turned into mere trinkets.
He picked up a Ring of Strikes, only to find its magic completely gone.
Walking over to the boar, John pulled the sword free from its body.
He examined it closely. The blade was etched with patterns that looked like some kind of runes.
From the boar's corpse, threads of crimson light seeped into the sword.
The runes glowed brighter.
There were ten such runes in total.
John flicked the blade with his finger. It seemed to be a silver sword.
With a gesture, the scabbard embedded in the ground flew into his hand. He slid the sword back in.
"Was that thing just now… 'experience points'?"
The whole thing felt suspiciously like leveling up from killing monsters. Slinging the sword across his back, John figured this so-called trial was essentially about hunting down magical creatures.
Walking along the tunnel, he noticed the murals on the walls had vanished.
The smooth stone looked as if no murals had ever existed.
When he first arrived it had been night, but stepping outside now, he was met with a world of white snow, and he fell into thought.
A gust of cold wind swept past. At the mouth of the cave were traces of animal activity.
Most likely left by that boar from before.
Snow was drifting into the cave, the temperature dropping sharply.
John lifted his hand, catching a snowflake. The icy touch was indistinguishable from reality.
Through the swirling snow, someone was struggling closer.
Before they could reach him, John watched the figure collapse stiffly into the snow.
He froze for a moment, then cast a Summoning Charm.
A trail was dragged across the snow as the figure was pulled toward the cave entrance.
John's eyes fixed on the person—or rather, on their clothes.
Not modern attire, but coarse, roughly made linen, the kind commoners wore in some bygone era.
The air grew colder and colder.
The heavy snow was shifting toward a full blizzard.
The cave entrance offered no shelter from the wind, and the person he had dragged inside was turning pale and blue.
John had no choice but to carry them into the castle.
Once the doors shut behind him, the interior felt all the more eerie and oppressive.
Some parts were badly decayed, and faint drafts whistled through the gaps.
Finding a chair, John raised his hand and shattered it into wooden strips with magic, piling them up for firewood.
With a point of his finger, flames flared to life.
The temperature began to rise.
"Rennervate."
He cast the spell, rousing the person back to consciousness.
But as soon as they woke, they scrambled backward in terror.
"Monster!"
Eh..? Monster?
John's brows furrowed. That was a rather rude way to treat the man who had just saved your life.
Realizing his reaction had offended John, the man dropped to his knees in terror.
At last, under John's questioning, he explained the truth.
His fear came from the legends of the mountains.
This place had always been shrouded in mystery, said to be home to terrifying beings.
The man himself was a hunter. He had gone up the mountain to hunt but was trapped by the snowstorm.
Unknowingly, he had wandered here.
From him, John learned the current time—more precisely, the current world.
It was a society structured like a medieval kingdom.
Villages were often plagued by raids, and on full-moon nights, werewolves slaughtered villagers.
Clearly, this was no technological society.
And it was just as clear that danger was everywhere.
The gravest threats came from magical creatures—and from a few infamous wizards.
The man's name was Parker.
Seeing that John showed no hostility, Parker gradually lowered his guard and finally got a good look at the so-called "monster."
He was very young.
When Parker noticed the slain boar, his jaw dropped in astonishment.
"You killed this?" Parker asked respectfully.
For someone powerful, no matter the era, respect was instinctive.
Catching his eager expression, John said casually, "What's the problem?"
"Honored sir, I hope you might help us deal with the werewolves."
Afraid John might refuse, Parker quickly added, "Of course, our village will offer proper payment."
John considered his current confusion. Perhaps going to the village wasn't a bad idea.
So he agreed.
Outside, the snowstorm gradually ceased.
Parker led the way, guiding John down the mountain.
After reaching the village at the foot of the mountain, John could confirm it—he had indeed arrived somewhere else.
This village was completely different from the Jovonovich estate. It wasn't very large, and John could see a number of people moving about.
They all stared curiously at the outsider.
John noticed their clothing—it resembled medieval garb.
Parker led John to a house that looked a bit wealthier than the rest and knocked heavily on the door.
After a while, the door opened.
An old man stepped out.
Bent with age, the elder was surprised to see Parker alive.
"Parker, you're still alive?"
"Village chief, I've brought a friend. He's willing to help us deal with the werewolf problem."
John noticed the chief's face change at the mention of werewolves.
The chief looked past Parker. John stood there, his clothing completely out of place in the setting.
After studying him for a moment, the chief said disapprovingly, "Parker, your friend can't help us."
Panicked, Parker quickly argued, "Village chief, this friend killed the great boar on the mountain—he has tremendous strength."
"That big boar?" The village chief looked surprised, but still shook his head skeptically. "Young man, I've seen too many like you. They all thought they could handle that monster."
Plenty of adventurers had come seeking to slay the werewolf. Without exception, every one of them had died.
John chuckled lightly. "In that case, adding me to the list doesn't seem like much of a problem."
The chief hesitated, then finally shook his head. "I don't want to see you throw your life away."
John stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. They say good advice fills the belly—so I'll mind my own business."
That made Parker panic; the last thing he wanted was to end up with his throat ripped out by a werewolf someday.
John gave him a look, signaling him to keep quiet.
The chief smiled in relief and was about to offer hospitality to this traveler from afar.
But John wasn't interested—he left directly.
Parker hurried after him, opening his mouth several times along the way.
"I know what you want to ask," John stopped, speaking casually. "When the werewolf shows itself, I'll step in."
"But you…" Parker looked shocked.
"I don't have to listen to the chief."
It wasn't like some game quest—he didn't need to formally accept it in order to act.
John planned to wait until the werewolf appeared to see for himself—and also confirm the exact requirements of the trial.
Parker was a bit confused, but obediently led John back to his home.
From his small satchel, John handed Parker an emerald ring, telling him to sell it and use the money to buy him a set of clothes and some local currency.
Now that these gems no longer held any magical power, they were better off exchanged for cash.
But he had underestimated their value. Parker returned with clothes, but the gem remained unsold.
No one in the village could afford it.
"This kind of thing would only sell in a proper town," Parker explained. Out of his own pocket, he had bought John a set of clothes.
Hearing that, John took back the gem and changed into the clothes.
At last, he no longer stood out from the villagers.
He stayed in the village for two days, waiting until the night of the full moon.
Parker hid inside his house, trembling, while John heard the sound of a wolf's howl.
Straightening his clothes, he picked up his sword and walked outside.
Under the full moon stood a gaunt, skeletal werewolf, upright on its hind legs.
As a wizard, John naturally knew that werewolves were once human.
He fixed his gaze on the spot where the creature had appeared.
There was still a rope around the werewolf's neck—clearly, it had broken free from its restraints.
At its feet stood the village chief's house.
John slowly drew his sword, and the werewolf noticed him.
"Wonder if a bite from the werewolves here spreads the curse the same way," John muttered.
By then, the werewolf was already charging at him.
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