Wobo's Past

The carriage lurched to a stop before Romeo Smith's gate. The coat of arms on the golden arch seemed to smile arrogantly, the gardeners swept leaves that had never seen my face. Oliver disembarked with steps that attempted to imitate confidence, the merchant carrying a rare curiosity. I disembarked as if carrying a precious object, my new body trembling within and the mask of servitude adjusted on my face.

The hallway to the reception room was lined with exotic objects: stuffed birds in impossibly colorful colors, fine furs wrapped in baskets, an aquarium full of fish that gleamed like blades in the light. Romeu greeted me with a cool smile and eyes that assessed like someone testing metal. He was a man of restrained presence, not a budget buster, but someone who knew the price of rare things. He wore rings on every finger and a brooch that looked like a small, resting portal.

"Oliver, what treasure do you bring today?" Romeo asked in a voice that required more spectacle than information.

"An… exotic piece. Straight from the borders. The young woman has a history with distant clans, sir." Oliver bowed, handing over the receipt with an air of someone who knows how to negotiate.

Romeu looked at me for a long time, his curiosity and that clouded predilection for surprises evident. He called a servant and ordered tea served while he examined the document more closely. I maintained my practiced gestures, a delicate hand on the chalice, an obedient gaze, a brief smile when required. Every muscle in my body burned inside, an anxiety I tried not to let out.

When Romeu got up and came to look at "the merchandise," the room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of us. That's when everything had to feel natural.

“It’s very hot today,” I muttered.

"Let me wipe your forehead, sir, the heat must be bothering you," I told him.

I had to earn his trust. He inclined his head with academic disdain, and I stepped closer. The cloth was soft between my fingers; I trembled just enough to appear human.

Then Romeo Smith raised the chalice with the calm of someone who believed he dominated the room. His rings gleamed in the golden torchlight, reflecting his confidence. I kept my eyes lowered, the posture of an obedient slave, and poured him the tea with both hands, bowing my head as if on cue.

The sweet aroma hid what lay within—a slimy droplet taken from the body of a Poison Slime . Mixed with the tea, it seemed like just another rare herb that merchants like Oliver always carried.

Romeo drank. First one sip, then another, satisfied. He smiled disdainfully.

"Indeed… a curious gift. The merchant chose well," Romeo said, leaning back.

I waited in silence. Minutes later, I saw sweat trickle down his temple. His breathing became heavy and irregular. He tried to stand, but his knees gave out. The chalice fell and rolled across the floor, spilling the poisoned liquid onto the expensive carpet.

— What… — Romeo's voice trailed off.

“What did you… do to me?” Romeo asked, his voice almost broken.

I lifted my chin, looking directly into his eyes for the first time. The smile I let out was cold, without compassion.

— You shouldn't be so trusting of the rare things you buy, — I replied to him.

He tried to activate his ability. One of the rings glowed, and a magic circle began to form on his hand. But the poison had already taken over his body. The glow dissolved into sparks, and the circle disappeared.

Romeo fell to his side, writhing. His eyes glazed over in disbelief, and the instant the life drained from him, I felt a wave course through me. It was as if the space around me breathed with me, an invisible connection settling within me.

My heart raced. Images came to mind: corridors doubling back on themselves, dots flashing in different places, the path between two locations becoming one. I had been given Romeo's ability.

Teleport .

I looked at the corpse, took a deep breath and muttered

Thank you, Romeo. Your usefulness ends here.

I straightened my clothes, hiding any sign of tension on my face, and walked outside. In the silence of the hallway, the feeling was clear: now the power of a nobleman was in the hands of a former slave , and no one in the city knew it.

It was late evening when I returned to the barracks. The silence in the hallways seemed heavier than usual, as if the very stones knew something had happened. I opened the door slowly and found Ryn , Kalea , and Oliver gathered together, looking worried.

They stood up immediately. Kalea ran to me.

— Araya ! You took a while… we thought you had been discovered. — he said Kalea

I took off my hood, took a deep breath, and let out a brief, tired smile.

— I did it. — I told them.

— Got what? — he asked. Ryn , always suspicious with his eyes narrowing.

I looked at the three of them, one at a time.

“Romeo Smith is dead,” I said calmly.

Silence fell over the room. Kalea clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise. Ryn stood still, just staring at me, trying to gauge the truth of my words. Oliver, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"You killed a nobleman in his own home? You're more dangerous than I thought," Oliver said , chuckling, almost in disbelief.

I raised my hand, and in a snap I disappeared from their sight, and reappeared a few feet behind, beside the door.

"I stole his ability. Teleportation is mine now," I said.

Kalea gaped, her eyes shining with astonishment.

—Araya … this changes everything! — Kalea said.

— Teleportation . A gift few possess. Now I understand why you risked so much. — Ryn said, still serious.

"But remember. The city will not ignore Romeo's death. Soon the nobles will begin to suspect. We must act quickly and carefully," I warned everyone.

Oliver laughed again, clapping his hands slowly.

"Bravo. A hero who kills and steals. You're really starting to warm up to me." Oliver said with immense happiness.

I ignored his comment and sat down, exhausted, but with my mind already planning the next steps.

Time passed. Exactly two weeks since the night I killed Romeo. The female body the DNA Flower had imposed on me began to change little by little until it finally began to disappear completely.

One morning, as I looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror, I saw again the masculine face I'd always known. Firm shoulders, a deep voice returned, my manly hands. I took a deep breath and smiled with relief.

Finally… I'm me again.

But returning to my body didn't erase the hatred growing within me. Wobo 's mocking smile still haunted me. His words, his manipulation, the fact that he'd played with my mind like a toy.

I wanted revenge. But first… I needed to understand who he really was.

How did Wobo know I was the Copy Hero? I never told anyone outside my circle. Ryn and Kalea were loyal, they'd proven their loyalty more than once. Betraying them was unthinkable.

So where did he get this information from?

A hypothesis gnawed at me: that Wobo might be an informant for Princess Margaret. That would explain the smile, the confidence, the knowledge of things I could never have discovered on my own.

I decided not to wait any longer. I walked through the barracks, each step echoing firmly. When I reached Wobo 's cell , my gaze was cold, without room for doubt.

Inside, the wolf man sat in the corner, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness. And, as always, that smile was on his face.

He slowly stood up, coming to the bars.

—Well, well… the great Araya is a man again. I was missing you, heroine. — he said Wobo chuckling softly.

"Enough games, Wobo . I came here because I need answers." My voice came out firm and cold.

He tilted his head in amusement like a predator watching prey approach.

—Answers? Or confirmations? — Wobo said with a smile on his face.

I approached the bars with my eyes fixed on his.

“How did you know I was the Copy Hero?” I asked him.

Wobo 's smile didn't disappear; on the contrary, it became even more provocative.

— Ah, Araya … — Wobo murmured.

—You're finally asking the right question. — Wobo said in an ironic tone.

"Enough of this nonsense, Wobo . If you have something to say, say it now." I said, staring at him with cold eyes.

The wolfman let out a heavy sigh. For a moment, he seemed calm. But then, suddenly, he threw back his head and began to scream.

"YOU WANT THE TRUTH, ARAYA?! THEN I'LL TELL YOU!" Wobo 's voice echoed off the stone walls, so loud that the other prisoners cringed in silence.

His golden eyes burned with hatred, his fangs bared. He gripped the bars so tightly that the iron groaned beneath his claws.

— I HATE KING ALBERT! — he shouted. Wobo with every word charged with raw fury.

— EVERYONE WORSHIPS THIS KING AS A HERO, BUT HE ONLY MANAGED TO SEAL THE DEMON KING BECAUSE I WAS BY HIS SIDE! — Wobo continued shouting .

Shock coursed through me. My legs trembled, but I held my gaze steady.

— What…? — I muttered.

Wobo continued spitting the words like venom

—OVER THIRTY YEARS AGO, THAT BASTARD AND I SEALED THE DEMON KING USING A SEALING PAPER! WITHOUT ME, HE NEVER WOULD HAVE MADE IT! — Wobo screamed.

The other prisoners looked at each other in absolute silence, shocked by the revelation.

— AND THE ANCIENT HEROES?! WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?! — I screamed, my voice cutting through the air.

Wobo banged his forehead against the bars, his eyes wide with rage.

— DEAD! ALL DEAD! — Wobo yelled, his voice almost hoarse.

— AND BACK THEN, ALBERT WAS JUST A COWARDLY PRINCE! — Wobo continued to shout.

My heart raced. The weight of those words crushed me.

Wobo didn't stop. His voice was like thunder.

"THE KING OF ARGARILL, ALBERT'S FATHER, WENT MAD WHEN HE HEARD THAT THE SUMMONED HEROES HAD BEEN MASSACRED! HE ORDERED A DESPERATE ALLIANCE WITH BEASTMEN, ELVES, AND ALL THE OTHER RACES! ONLY THEN WOULD THEY AT LEAST BE ABLE TO SEAL THE DEMON QUEEN!" Wobo screamed in rage.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes blazing with fury, as if he had carried this hatred for decades.

I, on the other hand, felt the ground disappear beneath my feet. If this is true… the whole story we've been told about Albert is a lie.

The revelation burned inside me, igniting a new fire. And in the face of Wobo 's crazed smile , I realized I had just entered a much bigger game than I had imagined.

Wobo 's words echoing like thunder in my mind.

Dead heroes… Albert still a prince… an alliance with other races…

My heart was racing. This didn't make sense.

Because I knew this story. Not just because I lived in this world now… but because before all this happened, I read the damn light novel that brought me here: "The Summoned Hero."

I clearly remembered the glossy cover, the clichéd synopsis, and that detail that seemed like nothing more than an author's joke: a page saying that if the reader wanted to be transported to another world, they could simply turn the page. I laughed, thought it was stupid… and yet I turned it anyway.

And that's when I woke up here.

In that novel, it was written that the king of Argarill had sealed the demon king alone, using the courage of the summoned heroes as inspiration. It was a story of bravery, of a human king's solitary triumph against the forces of evil. There was not a single line about alliances with beastmen, elves , or any other race.

So the story I read was adulterated? Manipulated?

I felt a chill run down my spine. If that were true, I'd been fooled from the start.

Desperately, I grabbed the bars of the cell

" Wobo ! What happened after the demon king was sealed?!" I shouted.

The wolf man smiled darkly, his eyes still burning with hatred.

Argarill 's army betrayed us." Wobo chuckled ironically as he spoke.

He slammed his claws against the iron bars, causing a metallic clang to echo.

— As soon as the demon king fell, Albert and his kingdom turned their blades against those who had fought alongside them! Beastmen, elves , dwarves… all betrayed! All hunted as if they were enemies! — he shouted Wobo is irritated when remembering the past.

My eyes widened.

—But why?! — I asked.

Wobo stared at me, his teeth bared.

"Because Albert always wanted absolute power. He never accepted sharing victory with other races. To him, we were disposable tools!" Wobo said, his voice boiling with resentment.

He lifted his shirt, exposing his broad chest. In the center, a deep, ancient scar, etched like a perpetual burn.

"And do you know how I know that?" "Because it was Albert who stuck this sword in here! He stabbed me in the back when I was still exhausted from the sealing!" he said. Wobo with hate.

His words fell like sharp blades into my chest.

Wobo pulled down his shirt and laughed, a bitter laugh.

—I fled that night, stumbling in my own blood. I didn't die… but since then I've carried only hatred. Hatred for the king everyone venerates as a savior. — he said Wobo

I was breathless. Each sentence he spoke further dismantled the story I knew.

So… even the book that brought me here lied to me. Everything in this world is manipulated.

I felt anger rise in my chest. Now, besides the revenge against Margarida and my former companions, there was a new shadow rising: the throne of Argarill .