Kapitel 3: Quests

A crimson spear tore through the air, instantly pinning a half-man-sized demon boar firmly to the rock.

However, the demon boar didn't die immediately. Vein-like patterns flowed on its black skin, and its eyes filled with the ferocity and brutality of a wild beast. Its struggling body made the spear tremble along with the rock.

A black-haired youth emerged from the shadows, a massive lance materializing in his hand. The holy white patterns turned into a somber pitch-black, and an aura of 'death' enveloped it.

As if sensing something, the demon boar's struggles grew more intense.

"Don't worry, it'll just hurt for a moment." Said the youth while wearing an innocent smile like a fairy. He gently thrust the lance into the demon boar's body.

*Oinkkk!*

The demon boar let out a piercing scream, then gradually fell silent.

The crimson spear and the white lance disappeared simultaneously. Arkhan collected some branches nearby, lit a campfire using Rune, skillfully removed the demon boar's innards, washed them clean, and then cut the meat into evenly sized pieces, which he placed on the campfire to roast.

By the time the meat was almost done, the sky had darkened.

Arkhan leaned against a rock, eating the meat while gazing at the brilliantly sparkling night sky.

It was different from the sky of the Land of Shadows, dim but genuinely vast.

This was the taste of freedom.

It had been half a month since he left the Land of Shadows. He had swum across the ocean to the other side of Ireland, which was Britain. Along the way, he hadn't encountered any interference from Scathach.

It seemed that the revival of the Balor of the Evil Eye had indeed caused her some trouble.

But Arkhan wasn't really worried. His mother was the Queen of the Land of Shadows, and there, she was invincible. Dealing with tricky enemies was just a matter of spending a bit more time for her.

So, instead of worrying about her, he focused on his own affairs.

"I should be able to reach Tintagel tomorrow if that old hunter who took half of my demon boar didn't lie to me."

It probably wouldn't happen, though. This was the 5th century, and people here were still quite straightforward.

"Not having a cellphone is really troublesome. I wonder how long it will be until the king selection."

Arkhan scratched his head, looking at the virtual panel that only he could see.

[Quest One: Escape from the Land of Shadows (Completed)]

[Quest Reward: The Twelfth Divine Key - Jizo Mitama]

[Quest Two: Pull the sword from the stone on the day of the king selection]

[Quest Reward: The Eighth Divine Key - Fenghuang Down]

From the day he opened his eyes, Arkhan had figured out his situation.

He had reincarnated into the Nasuverse and became the adopted son of the Queen of the Land of Shadows.

In this world where reincarnation was as common as eating and drinking, he quickly accepted his fate. However, when he saw that white lance, his mind had a momentary short circuit.

Why did a Divine Key come with him?!

As a player of Honkai Impact 3rd, he naturally recognized that white lance. It was the Sixth Divine Key, Key of Creation—Abyss Flower, made from the core of the Herrscher of Death.

Originally, he thought it was just an accident. But subsequent hints from the System helped him gradually understand the situation.

In simple terms, as long as he completed quests, he could obtain Divine Keys. The Abyss Flower could be considered something like a beginner's gift.

However, these quests weren't as simple as they seemed. Just for the first quest, he had prepared for more than ten years, training diligently every day. He also had to hide his mastery of Primordial Rune from Cu Chulainn, a feat that required immense effort and a bit of luck to complete.

The first quest was so challenging, so the second quest wouldn't be as straightforward as it appeared either.

Before King Uther's death, he left a will witnessed by the Great Mage Merlin. Whoever could pull the sword from the stone would become the King of Britain.

That was common knowledge.

In anticipation of the day of the king selection, countless knights were eagerly preparing. It would undoubtedly be a grand and unprecedented event.

But Arkhan knew that this entire king's selection was a scam from start to finish. The true king had long been decided.

Artoria Pendragon, the artificial red dragon created by King Uther and Merlin, was fated to be the King of Britain from the day of her birth.

Arkhan didn't particularly care about becoming the king himself, but the sword in the stone had been enchanted with magecraft by Merlin. Except for Artoria, no one could pull it out.

It was a performance meant solely for Artoria. The script had been written the moment King Uther passed away. Everyone else, apart from the fated 'King Arthur', was just an audience.

"Anyway, I'll take it step by step. If there's an opportunity, great; if not... well, I can always overturn the chessboard."

Arkhan wouldn't give up easily, especially considering that Fenghuang Down was a Divine Key capable of controlling the power of the mind. Anyone who has played the game or read the comic knows just how useful that thing is.

"AAAHHH!!!"

A piercing scream tore through the night sky, sounding like an owl's cry.

The faint scent of blood reached Arkhan's nostrils, and he could faintly hear the clang of metal.

'Something happened!'

Arkhan narrowed his eyes slightly as a crimson spear materialized in his hand. He dashed, slicing through the deep night like lightning.

===

*ROARRR!*

The raging wind kicked up by the flapping wings sent a whole group of fully armed knights tumbling to the ground. Their outdated armor proved as fragile as paper under those sharp claws. In the blink of an eye, more than ten knights had lost their ability to fight.

It was an inevitable outcome; with their strength, even facing a wyvern head-on would exact a heavy toll, let alone in the face of such a surprise attack.

The shadow that blotted out the moonlight descended from the sky. Gazing at those gleaming, ice-cold claws, the young knight trembled uncontrollably. He had been a knight just moments ago, and now he lay in shattered pieces beneath those claws.

Fear, like the grasp of a demon, had seized his heart, and his trembling legs had lost all mobility.

*Clang!*

A tall, old knight stepped forward, wielding his iron sword to drive the wyvern back. He yanked the young knight to his feet as if lifting a chick.

"Run, and don't look back!" The old knight commanded.

"I... I can't leave you alone." The young knight clenched his teeth and said tremblingly.

"Cut the chit-chat! Your being here is just causing trouble!" The gruff voice left no room for doubt. "Head back to town, get some backup, and find Sir Ector! He's the strongest knight in town!"

Watching the young knight's retreating figure, the old knight's weathered face broke into a faint smile.

'This is it; you are the future hope of Britain. Let this old bone pave the way for your journey into the future.'