"So as I was saying," Noah began, crossing one leg over the other like a man who definitely wasn't still internally screaming about the fact that there were two beautiful princesses seated here, "I've already listed my terms and conditions."
The king nodded as if Noah had just drafted a peace treaty between nations. "Yes, I remember. Quite… extensive."
Noah shrugged. "Hey, if I'm going to risk my butt against a demon lord, I might as well get dental. Anyway, as I was saying, there's a slight problem with the whole 'save the world' gig. In the world I come from… magic and knights don't ex — "
Before he could finish, the king waved his hand with a dramatic flourish like he was trying to skip cutscenes in real life.
Suddenly, two figures stepped forward from the side of the throne room like they'd been waiting backstage on cue.
Which was, frankly, terrifying. Noah didn't even hear footsteps. It was like they spawned in with loading animations.
First came a broad-shouldered man with a thick blond beard that screamed I punch dragons for breakfast.
He was wearing armor so shiny that Noah nearly went blind.
The guy dropped to one knee in front of him with the grace of a mountain toppling.
"I, Sir Garrick of the Solmaria Vanguard, offer my blade and my time to train you, Hero," he boomed. "It would be my honor to teach you how to wield a sword."
Noah stared.
Then blinked. Then leaned sideways to see if the man had any weaknesses, like maybe a squeaky voice or tiny shoes.
No dice. The dude looked like he ate protein shakes with a spoon.
"Uh… thank you?" Noah said. "Do you also offer dental?"
Before Garrick could respond, another figure stepped forward — a young woman, maybe around Noah's age, though she had the kind of aura that screamed Do not mess with me or I'll turn you into a squirrel.
Her robes were sleek, black with glowing blue trim, and a staff was slung across her back like a fashionable arcane accessory.
She knelt too, but with a soft elegance that contrasted Garrick's "I bench press castles" energy.
"I am Mira," she said, voice calm and melodic. "Graduate of the Grand Aetherium, third circle mage of Solmaria. It would be a pleasure to teach you magic, Hero."
Noah blinked again. "...Did you say third circle? What are you, a magical Pokémon evolution?"
Garrick chuckled. Mira did not.
Noah took that as a sign to never make wizard jokes again.
The king clapped his hands together like a proud dad at a school recital. "And there you have it. A mentor in blade, and one in spell. You're all set."
"Wow," Noah said. "It's like Hogwarts and a gym subscription rolled into one."
"Hero," the king said, "I've also instructed the servants to prepare your private lodging. The house you requested. A modest one, correct?"
Noah lit up like a medieval Christmas tree. "Oh my god, yes. A small house. I need my own space."
The king gestured, and a nearby servant — dressed in what Noah could only describe as 'fancy penguin chic' — stepped forward with a bow.
"Right this way, Hero."
Noah turned to Garrick and Mira. "So, when do we start training? Please tell me there's a warm-up phase. Or an orientation. Or snacks?"
Garrick grinned. "We begin tomorrow. At dawn."
Mira smiled politely. "Before the sun rises, ideally."
Noah recoiled. "Okay, and do either of you know what a 'weekend' is? Or is this just eternal suffering?"
Mira blinked. "I thought heroes did not complain."
"Oh we do," Noah said, already walking toward the exit. "We just do it with charisma and deep, unprocessed trauma."
As they exited the palace and walked through the lavish marble corridors, Noah tried to play it cool, but every chandelier, rug, and suspiciously muscular statue he passed made him more aware of how completely out of place he was.
This whole place felt like a crossover between Game of Thrones and a luxury spa.
The servant led him out into the royal gardens — lush, colorful, annoyingly perfect — and toward a small cobblestone path that led to a quaint, beautiful little cottage tucked beside a sparkling pond.
Noah stopped dead in his tracks.
"Wait. This is my house?"
The servant nodded. "Yes, Hero. As requested. A modest house, secluded, peaceful, with natural scenery."
Noah looked at the ivy-covered stone walls, the curved tiled roof, the handcrafted wooden porch swing, and the freaking swans gliding through the pond like they paid rent.
"This is a fairy tale cottage, not a house. It's got storybook romance vibes. What if I get haunted by some retired princess looking for closure?"
"...Pardon?" the servant asked.
"Never mind," Noah said, shaking his head. "This is perfect. Unreasonably perfect. I'm suspicious. Does the stove explode? Are the blankets made of sandpaper? Does the mirror tell me I'm ugly?"
"No, Hero. Everything is fully functional. We even included a wardrobe of clothes tailored to your size."
"...Are there sweatpants?"
"Yes."
Noah stared at him. "I am willing to cry right now."
The inside was somehow even more absurd.
Hardwood floors, a plush couch by the fireplace, a king-sized bed with an actual canopy (!!!), and a bathroom with what looked like enchanted plumbing.
The whole place smelled like cinnamon and divine intervention.
He turned slowly. "You people really know how to treat a man you kidnapped."
"We consider it an investment," the servant replied with a bow. "Dinner will be brought to you shortly."
As the servant left and closed the door behind him, Noah threw himself dramatically onto the bed, arms spread wide like he was about to float into another plane of comfort.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "I'm still stuck in a magical world, forced to fight an apocalyptic Demon king, and train like an anime protagonist on steroids… but this bed? This bed slaps."
He let out a long sigh, then turned his head to the side.
On the nightstand was a crystal orb.
It glowed once.
"Hello Hero," came a disembodied voice. "This is your magical wake-up orb. Training begins at 4 A.M. sharp."
Noah sat up slowly, his face a mask of horror.
"…I take it back. Burn the house down."