But seeing his parents so terrified made him feel bad. They truly believed he was weak. They thought he was being sent to his death.

  This is a pain, Ken thought.

  ----

  The silence in the small living room was heavy enough to crush a person. The air felt thick, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks. Just seconds ago, Ken’s mother, Khadija, had explained exactly what the Special Servant Force was. It wasn't a gardening club. It wasn't a study group. It was a team built for the Succession War—a brutal competition involving monsters, magic, and death.

  Grandmaster Finlay sat on the old, beige sofa, his silver armor shining under the dull light of the ceiling lamp. He looked completely out of place, like a lion sitting in a hamster cage. He watched the family with calm, blue eyes.

  Ken Eliot sat on his small wooden stool in the corner. He scratched the back of his head, messing up his black hair even more than usual. Inside his mind, he was screaming.

  “Give me a break,” Ken thought. “I just finished college. I have a list of video games I need to play. I have a plan to sleep until noon tomorrow. And now this giant tin can wants me to go fight dragons? No thanks.”

  Ken knew he had to get out of this. He had to use his best acting skills. He had to become the most pathetic, useless person in the Kingdom.

  He cleared his throat loudly. "Um, excuse me, Mr. Grandmaster Sir?"

  Finlay shifted his gaze to Ken. "Yes, Candidate Eliot?"

  "Candidate?" Ken made a face like he had just bitten into a sour lemon. "I think we need to rewind a bit. You see, my mom is right. I’m not really… built for this."

  Ken stood up slowly, acting as if his legs were weak. He hunched his shoulders and let his arms dangle loosely by his sides. He tried to look as un-heroic as possible.

  "Look at me," Ken said, gesturing to his loose t-shirt and sweatpants. "I have terrible posture. I get tired just walking to the refrigerator. If I run for more than ten seconds, I get dizzy. I’m basically a sloth in human form."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Finlay did not laugh. He didn't even blink. "Physical conditioning is part of the training. We can build muscle."

  "It’s not just muscles!" Ken argued, widening his eyes to look innocent and scared. "It’s my magic. It’s terrible! When I was in school, I could barely light a candle. My mana capacity is like… a teaspoon. If you put me on a battlefield, I won’t be a soldier. I’ll be a target practice dummy."

  Ken’s father, Brandon, nodded eagerly. He was desperate to keep his son safe. "He is telling the truth, Grandmaster! Ken was never good at sports or magic duel classes. He is a gentle boy. He likes reading and… and growing vegetables. He is not a warrior."

  "Exactly!" Ken pointed at his dad. "I’m a potato guy! I want to farm. I want peace. If I see a monster, I will probably faint. You don't want a fainting servant, do you? That would be embarrassing for the Princess."

  Ken waited for Finlay to agree. He expected the Grandmaster to say, “Oh, you are right. You are useless. I will leave now.”

  But Finlay just sighed. It was the sound of a man who had heard every excuse in the book.

  "Modesty is a good trait," Finlay said, his voice deep and rumbling. "But the 13th Princess did not choose you for your muscle mass. She chose you for your potential."

  "Potential?" Ken asked, his voice cracking slightly. "What potential? The potential to sleep for fourteen hours straight?"

  "The Princess has an instinct," Finlay said firmly. "She sees things others do not. She believes that under this… lazy exterior… lies a spirit that can change the course of the war."

  Ken wanted to face-palm. “Oh no,” he thought. “This is that classic anime trope. The ‘Chosen One’ nonsense. Why does this always happen to the guy who just wants to chill? Princess Iris, whoever you are, your instincts are terrible. I mean, they are actually right because I am super strong, but you aren't supposed to know that!”

  Ken decided to try a different approach. He needed to be firm.

  "Listen, Sir," Ken said, trying to sound serious but just sounding tired. "I am honored. Really. It’s cool that a Princess knows my name. But I have to decline. I have plans. I have a life here. I can't just drop everything to go play soldier."

  The room went quiet again. To refuse a request from a Royal was rare. Most people would jump at the chance for fame and money.

  Jasmin, who had been quiet, looked at her brother with wide eyes. "Ken? Are you crazy? This is the Royal Family!"

  "I don't care," Ken muttered. "I like my bed."

  Grandmaster Finlay slowly leaned forward. The metal of his breastplate creaked. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Before, he was a polite guest. Now, he was a high-ranking military officer. The air grew colder. The friendly look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a steely, serious gaze.

  "Mr. Eliot," Finlay said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the floorboards vibrate. "I think you misunderstand the situation."

  Ken felt a chill run down his spine. “Here it comes,” he thought. “The ‘or else’ part.”

  "This is not a job interview," Finlay continued. "I am not a recruiter asking for your resume. I am a Grandmaster of the Belmontia Empire, and I am delivering a direct command from the Imperial Palace."

  Finlay stood up. He towered over everyone in the room. His shadow stretched across the floor, covering Ken’s feet.

  "When a Royal Prince or Princess selects a servant for the Succession War, it is absolute," Finlay stated. "To refuse an Imperial Order is an act of defiance against the Crown."

  Khadija let out a small whimper. She grabbed Brandon’s arm, her knuckles turning white.

  "What… what does that mean?" Brandon asked, his voice shaking.

  Finlay looked at Brandon, then back at Ken. "It means that if Ken Eliot refuses to come with me tonight, he will be considered a traitor to the Empire. He will be arrested. And since you are his family, you may be investigated for harboring a traitor."

  The threat hung in the air like poisonous smoke.

  Ken looked at his mother. Her face was pale, and tears were starting to spill from her eyes. She looked terrified—not just for Ken, but for the whole family. He looked at his father, who looked defeated, his shoulders slumped as he realized he had no power to protect them.

  Ken’s act of being a "lazy fool" dropped for a split second. His eyes narrowed.

  “They are threatening my family,” Ken thought. “Just to get me to join their stupid game.”