Stepping cautiously out of the bonfire's warm glow, Jenkins shivered as the temperature plumted.
He failed to notice Chocolate padding silently behind him, its paws making no sound on the grass. The three strange creatures, however, did. They couldn't fathom the imnse presence the man projected with every step, but that didn't stop them from adopting a wary, defensive posture.
"What's going on?"
This was happening before he'd even gotten close, and Jenkins had no idea why.
He could only brace himself and extend his right hand, letting it beco wreathed in red flas. Since the Nightmare Beast liked fire, this should work, right?
But to his surprise, for every step he took forward, the black beast took one back. The faster he advanced, the faster it retreated. When Jenkins broke into a run, the Nightmare Beast spun around and bolted into the depths of the black mist at an even greater speed. In the blink of an eye, it was gone.
"Well, this is just great..."
The multiple-choice question had just gone from three options to two, and Jenkins didn't dare turn around to see the looks on his companions' faces.
He felt sothing poking him in the back. He swatted at it impatiently, only to realize there shouldn't be anyone behind him.
Whipping his head around, he saw a golden horn gently nudging his back. The creature's silky white mane swayed with the movent. Its sky-blue eyes were impossibly pure and held a hint of fear.
He was so startled he nearly stumbled. A mont ago, Miss Knight had been attacked in the very sa way.
Chocolate was pawing at his pant leg, wanting to be picked up and placed on his shoulder, but Jenkins's attention was elsewhere.
"Mrow~"
The cat hissed at the unicorn, a clear threat. The white beast flinched back instinctively but then fought through its fear, lowering its head to gently touch Jenkins's dangling right hand with its golden horn.
"So Mr. Pollo... Mr. Candle... is a young maiden!"
His companions by the fire ca to a sudden understanding. Mr. Black Cat, in particular, was convinced he'd uncovered the truth. "Mr. Candle always uses an illusion to hide his appearance," he declared. "So his true form is a woman! The won of our ti are truly incredible!"
"What is it trying to do?"
Jenkins wondered, finally noticing the fuss his cat was making. He bent down, scooped it up, and placed it on his right shoulder.
The pure-white beast took another step forward and gently nuzzled the back of Jenkins's hand. The gesture was remarkably similar to how Chocolate acted when it wanted a treat.
"Is this body... really male?"
For a fleeting mont, Jenkins actually began to question it, but he quickly dismissed the thought as absurd.
"Don't tell I'm sohow related to the elves of legend?"
He wondered, but it made no sense. His soul was from a distant world, and this body belonged to an ordinary, impoverished boy. How could it be possible?
"Ah, I see! Everything written in books about unicorns is wrong!"
The realization struck Jenkins, and he instinctively responded to the unicorn's gentle nudging, raising his hand to stroke its soft, warm coat.
"Princess Sophia ultimately chose the unicorn as her mount," he announced. "Only such a creature could be worthy of her nobility and grace!"
He hadn't forgotten his role in the story. As he spoke, he walked over to the unicorn. He'd expected a difficult climb, like mounting a horse, but was surprised when the unicorn knelt down on the grass of its own accord.
When Jenkins hesitated, it turned its head and looked at him with curiosity.
He finally mounted the unicorn. The docile white beast carried him and the cat on his shoulder back to the bonfire, where it slowly knelt to let him dismount.
"Nnngh~"
It nickered softly, nudged the back of his hand with its golden horn one last ti, and then walked back into the swirling black mist.
At that very mont, a strange sensation washed over Jenkins. The spirit within him stirred restlessly. He stood there dazedly for a few seconds, feeling as if he understood sothing profound, yet at the sa ti understood nothing at all.
His keen intuition sensed a change within him. He summoned the motes of light that represented his abilities, and sure enough, a new one had appeared:
[Unicorn Summon (Blue Heteromorphic)].
"A heteromorphic ability from the unicorn race," he mused. "Did I really gain it just by... interacting with one?"
Chocolate perched quietly on his shoulder, its amber eyes glinting as if it had seen sothing amusing. After advancing to Level 3, he had gained two new ability slots. Combined with the one he'd acquired in the botanical Mysterious Realm, and subtracting the slot taken by [Undying Man], he'd had two free. He never expected to fill another one so soon.
But the story went on. Despite the ordeal they had just endured, there was still more for the four of them to face.
If they hadn't been forced to make choices, the old man's tale would have been a heartwarming and charming fairy tale. Princess Sophia's day was filled with delight, but the more delight she experienced, the greater their peril.
After selecting her mount, Princess Sophia snuck out of the castle to pick out a birthday present for her father. Guided by her maid, she stepped into a shop filled with old curiosities.
The four of them were forced to choose a gift from a shop that had abruptly materialized behind them. It appeared as if squeezed from the black mist itself, a three-walled room with the fourth wall missing, the one that faced the bonfire. Through the opening, they could see a cozy fireplace and wooden shelves laden with potential presents.
This ti it was Mr. Kreide's turn. He chose a landscape painting of a blue sky, white clouds, and a small pony. No sooner had he picked it up than he was sucked into the canvas, forced to battle a horde of invisible creatures.
This process repeated seven tis, and with each choice, the story advanced, finally arriving at the night of Princess Sophia's seventeenth birthday banquet.
"...The lovely Sophia, in her bedchamber, had just finished tidying her gown, which she had accidentally stained with grape juice. She turned, only to see her maid standing before the closed door, a dagger clutched in her hand."
The flas of the bonfire flared violently, pushing back a much larger swath of darkness. Around them, a magnificent palace chamber materialized. It was clearly Princess Sophia's bedchamber, though in the center of its pristine, reflective floor was a jarringly out-of-place circle of grass, where the storyteller and his audience sat.
At the door to the palatial bedchamber stood a young woman with a resolute expression, a dagger glinting coldly in her hand. Opposite her, the blonde princess, dressed in a pink gown, clutched the bow at her waist, her face a mask of astonishnt.
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