I, the Weakest Traveler, Start by Taming the gods of the Old World.

The massive doors groaned op, their ancit hinges protesting as if waking from a cturies-long slumber.

A hush fell over the assembled crowd, the sudd silce so profound it felt like a physical pressure.

All eyes snapped to the trance, breaths held in anticipation.

Ha Joon stood at the threshold, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve like a schoolboy about to recite a forgott poem.

He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing comically, before taking a ttative step forward.

The throne room stretched before him, a cavernous space that seemed to devour sound and sanity in equal measure.

A deep crimson carpet unfurled down the cter, leading to the distant dais where the throne perched like some great, gilded bird.

From this distance, it was more an idea than a visible object, a glimmer of gold and power.

Towering pillars lined the path, their smooth stone surfaces interrupted by ornate banners that cascaded from ceiling to floor in a riot of color and heraldry.

The fabric rippled gtly in an unfelt breeze, creating whispers of movemt in the otherwise still chamber.

Ha Joon's footsteps, muffled by the plush carpet, felt thunderous in the silce.

Each step forward was a battle against the instinct to flee, run screaming from this place of pomp and pottial peril.

The weight of countless gazes pressed down on him, making the air feel thick and difficult to breathe. He half-wondered if he'd stumbled into some elaborate trap, a gilded cage designed to suffocate the unwary.

"Who is that?" A voice hissed, barely above a whisper but seeming to echo in the stillness.

"Isn't that the Traveler who followed Her Majesty?" Another voice, tinged with awe and a hint of scandal.

"He called her royal Highness by her name?" This last was said with a mix of horror and titillated glee, as if witnessing a delicious faux pas at a dinner party.

Their voices rippled through the crowd in hushed waves, a sea of whispers and sidelong glances. They wer't ev trying to hide it, really.

Surprisingly, Ha Joon didn't seem to care much. He walked past their middle g with the nonchalance of a cat strolling through a dog park.

He came to a stop just a few paces beside a woman who was kneeling on the g, her posture a study in abject terror and resignation.

"So, wassup." He voiced out, looking up at Artoria with all the casual ease of a man greeting a frid at a coffee shop.

The contrast betwe his demeanor and the suffocating formality of the room was so stark it was almost painful.

Astoria, to everyone's shock, couldn't help but smile. It was as if the sun had suddly decided to shine indoors, warming the frigid atmosphere.

"Ha Joon, I hope my castle greets you well." She uttered, her hand on her cheek as she looked at him with nothing less than admiration. The court collectively held its breath, unsure whether to be scandalized or charmed.

"The bed was a bit hard, it felt like I was sleeping on a damn brick, but other than that, I guess you can say it was spldid." Ha Joon replied, his tone suggesting he was reviewing a budget hotel rather than addressing royalty.

A few gasps echoed through the chamber, quickly stifled.

"You watch your tongue! Have you no-" A knight began, her face flushed with indignation.

"At ease, Palamedes," Artoria chimed in with a slight raise of her arm, "A gtleman should not lash out in such a way." The rebuke was gtle but firm, leaving no room for argumt.

At that point, it was more than obvious that the Knights did not fancy him one bit. The 0 most powerful knights in all of Camelot, giv the title of Knights of the Round Table, looked at Ha Joon as if he were something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of their collective shoe.

Ha Joon took a momt to observe his surings more closely. Other than the first male Knight he'd met upon arriving in this world, the rest all seemed to be female - a gder reversal from the original knights that tickled his sse of the absurd.

He took another glance at Palamedes, observing how she had parked her black hair in a severe bun, the shape of her bosom molded beath the armor she wore.

'That confirms that,' he thought wryly. 'I honestly won't be surprised if Lancelot turns out to be a girl too. Maybe she'll be rocking a pixie cut and have a thing for the que.'

"If the bed makes you uncomfortable, th I'll have them change it for you," Artoria said, her voice cutting through Ha Joon's musings. She stood up from her throne with a grace that seemed almost supernatural.

"Oh? T-thanks?" Ha Joon moved back a bit wh he noticed Artoria had picked up her sword and unsheathed it while walking forward - towards him. For a momt, wild thoughts of "off with his head" danced through his mind.

But his confusion quickly vanished wh Astoria spoke, her voice ringing out clear and cold as a winter morning. "Sarah Ericson." She called out, standing in front of the woman who had be kneeling beside Ha Joon the whole time.

Ha Joon gave a side-eye at the woman, seeing how she was shaking with her head bowed.

Other than the sight of scared office workers stepping out of the boss's office after a particularly brutal performance review, this was the first time he had se something like this. The tsion in the room ratcheted up several notches.

"In accordance with the law of Camelot and the royal empire, your punishmt is to be treated with death." Artoria spoke out, her voice devoid of emotion.

'Pheewww!' Ha Joon whistled in his mind. There was no way he was about to experice someone being executed. This wasn't a battle royale execution; this was one where, if he was right, led to beheading. He half expected to wake up, to find this was all some bizarre dream brought on by too much late-night gaming and spicy food.

"Please have mercy, your highness! I have a family to return to! Please show me mercy!" The woman begged, her voice cracking with desperation.

But her pleas met with deaf ears. Artoria raised her sword, a cold glare on her face, one that Ha Joon didn't think could ev form on a beautiful face such as hers. It was like watching a rose suddly sprout thorns and fangs.

"Rest in peace."

And with that, the sword came falling down, slicing through the air with a whisper of finality. There was a sicking 'thunk', and th... silce. Blood spewed instantly as the head rolled on the floor, leaving only the woman's headless body to fall a few seconds later. It was grotesque, surreal, like a special effect gone horribly wrong.

A sigh left Artoria's mouth as she slashed her sword to the side, leaving the blood to splash on the g in a macabre arc.

"Get the maid to clean up this mess. I shall be returning to my chambers. Ha Joon, I ask that you join me." She smiled at him a bit before walking away, as casual as if she'd just finished a game of croquet.

Ha Joon was still a bit stiff from what he had witnessed. The little tissues soaked in blood dripping from the hole on the woman's neck, it was unlike anything he had se before. Not ev his most violt video games had prepared him for the stark reality of death.

Reality was slowly starting to hit him again. He was no longer in Korea, no longer in his world. This was a place where things seemed... backwards. No electricity, no technology, just an altered reality where great heroes and perhaps gods thrived. He had transmigrated to the old world, but at what cost?

As he followed Artoria, still in a daze, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd stepped into some kind of twisted fairy tale. If so, he hoped he wasn't cast as the hapless victim in the oping chapter.

...

"Sit," Artoria said as she moved to the side of the room, casually packing her hair into a bun as if she hadn't just executed someone momts ago.

The blade she had used to slice off a woman's head rested on her working table.

Ha Joon, confused as to why she ev wanted to see him (and slightly worried he might be next on the chopping block), sat gtly on the bed. He half expected it to be made of clouds or the bones of her emies. Instead, it was... surprisingly normal.

The king's room wasn't as big as he had expected. Instead, it seemed almost cozy. A red rug dominated the cter of the room, her bed covered in red pillows and blankets that looked soft ough to drown in. The curtains were red too.

Ha Joon wondered if perhaps the que had gott a bulk discount on crimson fabric.

A library shelf stood at the side of the room, a mirror just opposite it. Her bathroom was also there, looking more impressive than he'd expected for the era. Indoor plumbing in medieval times? Maybe this world wasn't all bad.

Looking at her room, Ha Joon found it hard to believe a woman who could so easily take a life could be so... girly.

"Tea?" Artoria suddly asked, looking at Ha Joon with a smile as she reached for the pink kettle on the table.

"I'd like that," he replied, deciding that accepting tea from someone who could lop off heads was probably the safest course of action. Besides, he could use a drink after the day he'd had.

As Artoria busied herself with the tea, Ha Joon's mind wandered. He didn't really have much of a choice, did he? He had died in his old world and was giv another chance to live in a new one. Or rather, he had travelled from his world back to the old one.

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