As Elias scoffed at the man and walked back into the office, a familiar surge rippled through him.
His passive ability Fanfare had activated.
[Passive effect Fanfare increasing…]
He had performed in front of a crowd. They had watched and they had reacted. Gave him their cheers.
And now, their response echoed within him like an encore demanded at the end of a grand play. The performance hadn't just lingered, it had intensified.
[Encore. Encore. Encore. Encore.]
He opened his status screen instinctively.
—————
[StatusScreen]
Name: Elias Cross
Class: Performer
Level: 15
HP: 440/440 | MP: 140/140
StatPoints:
Strength: 25 | Agility: 38 | Intelligence: 42 |
Charisma: 65 | Endurance: 34 | Luck: 53 |
UnassignedPoints: 3
---
Skills: [Encore. Encore. Encore.]
Cosplay – Transform into a character you've portrayed. Gain their abilities and experience.
Duration: 15-minutes
Cooldown: 5-minutes
---
PassiveSkills: [Encore. Encore. Encore.]
ActingMastery – Enhances emotional control and mental adaptability
Fanfare – The greater the audience reaction, the stronger the performance
---
Titles:
HellSurvivor – EXP acquisition +20%
—————
Elias could still feel the crowd's cheering energy inside him. That moment earlier, when he was portraying King Arthur, it hadn't ended when the skill's duration did. Fanfare was still active. Still influencing him somehow.
It was supposed to fade. Right?
He told himself it was probably just an aftereffect. Nothing serious.
He returned to the front desk. The same clerk looked up, a little nervous.
"Hi, can I get it now?"
"Yes, of course, sir," she replied quickly. "And, um, that really wasn't necessary earlier. Sorry for the trouble."
"It is of no trouble," Elias began, but his tone was different it was.... Noble.
His posture straightened. His voice deepened, lined with a royal cadence. "One must speak with truth, even when the air trembles with insult. But courtesy... Courtesy must never falte—."
The words spilled out before he could stop them.
His eyes widened. His hand flew to cover his mouth.
"…Umm. Sir? Everything alright?"
Elias paused, then gave a small, controlled smile. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Well then... here's your complimentary budget," she said, handing over a pouch of coins. "It should help you settle in for now."
"Oh. Thanks. I'll use it well."
He walked off quickly.
His heart beat faster. He could still feel the royalty of those words in his mouth.
That hadn't been Cosplay. That had been him. Talking like King Arthur.
Was this still Fanfare? Or was something else leaking through...?
An hour later, with his license in hand, Elias wandered the market district.
He picked up a standard vest. A basic pistol. Durable, reliable gear. And was now looking for something close range.
Because even though Cosplay gave him equipment linked to his characters, it all vanished the moment the skill duration ended. He needed real gear. Backups and safety nets.
The market was noisy, merchants shouting, adventurers haggling, kids chasing one another with snack-sticky hands.
Then, just beside the noise, came a loud rhythm.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The sound of metal striking metal.
He followed the sound until he found it, a modest smithy tucked between stalls, smoke coming out from its chimney and the scent of iron and ash was thick in the air.
He stepped inside.
The swords lining the walls caught his eye immediately.
And something inside him awoken.
He blacked out and a memory. No it was more like a film was being shown to him.
He saw a child. Swinging a wooden sword it seems as though he was training. Feet gliding across stone. Sweat dripping into his eyes. And a loud voice correcting him. Hands calloused. And then a repetition.
It wasn't Elias's memory.
But it felt like it was.
Then he saw it, etched into the hilt of one of the blades the instructor had, a noble sigil, sharp and unmistakable.
The crest of Arthur's kingdom.
His breath caught.
Why is that here?
"Hey!" a rough voice snapped him out. "You planning to stand there like a statue? Move to the corner if you're gonna daydream! You're blockin' the damn path!"
Elias stood there confused, pulled from the trance.
The blacksmith was broad-shouldered, arms thick with muscle, soot covered the folds of his apron. His eyes were sharp, less annoyed now and was more curious.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Bah. Save it." The man waved him off. "You a bard or somethin'? Are you here for an instrument? Cause I don't make 'em, and I ain't startin' now."
Elias managed a faint smile. "Actually... I'm looking for a short sword."
The blacksmith paused. Raised a brow. "A short sword?"
Elias nodded. "Just for backup. Something reliable."
Then he just grunted and turned. "Whatever. Follow me."
He led Elias to a side rack of short blades, practical, clean, unadorned.
"Pick one. They all cut the same if you swing 'em right."
Elias stepped forward, brushing his fingers over the hilts. One by one. Until his hand paused over a curved blade with a modest leather grip.
He picked it up.
And froze.
A pulse shot through him. Not memory but movement. His hand gripped the hilt like it had done it a thousand times before. His stance shifted, subtly. His weight adjusted. His shoulder relaxed.
It felt... right.
Like he'd trained with the art of the blade. Or someone had.
Someone he'd become.
"You alright, kid?" the blacksmith asked, watching.
"Hmph." He eyed Elias up and down. "Thought ya were a bard. Didn't expect a swordsman to have a face that pretty."
"…I'm technically a bard... Sort of,"
"What?"
Elias nodded, voice quiet. "Yeah..."
"Hmph. Good instinct then. Most folks don't even check if the weapon fits. That one's fifty copper."
Elias paid without letting go of the sword.
He gave a small nod, turned, and stepped back out into the sun.
The sword now hung comfortably at his side. Real. Weighted.
But his thoughts weren't on the blade.
If Fanfare could linger like this... if pieces of the role didn't fade after the curtain fell...
Then how much of King Arthur was just a character?
And how much of him was already leaking into Elias?
He glanced down at the blade and muttered under his breath.
"...I'm really losing myself."
..
..
..
..
..
[Immersion: King Arthur – 5.72%]