I became the master of the alien world

Chapter 112 Cell

Year 203 of the Wizarding Calendar, winter.

The sky is clear, but the temperature is even colder than yesterday. As we enter November, the continent of Cordia begins to be invaded by cold air. Both the north and the south of the continent are shrouded in ice.

"Good morning, Teacher Boru." Lancelot woke up very early today and arrived at the fitness center on time at seven o'clock.

Boru waved happily, he had been waiting for the boy here as early as an hour ago.

"Teacher Boru, didn't you say you would prepare weapons for me?" Lancelot looked at Boru from top to bottom.

Boru was still wearing a thin jacket and sports trousers, his hands were empty, and there was no trace of a spear.

"Let's finish our daily tasks first, and we'll talk about learning marksmanship in the afternoon." Boru said and walked to the runway on his own, gesturing to Lancelot to follow him.

【What the hell is this guy doing?】

Lancelot looked at the black teacher's back speechlessly, and had no choice but to run after him.

It was afternoon in a blink of an eye, and Lancelot had already had lunch. After saying goodbye to Lilith and Frank, he walked into the huge fitness gym again.

[Eh? It’s strange, why isn’t Mr. Bolu here?] Lancelot was dumbfounded as soon as he walked in.

From the first day of his training, Boru could be seen every time he entered the gym. The boy even thought Boru slept in the gym at night.

【I have no choice but to wait.】

Lancelot sat down in the center of the field. He didn't have any problem with Bolu being late. He could also rest for a while, so why not do it.

Thinking of this, Lancelot simply lay down, closed his eyes and recalled the past.

"Poor child, you are destined to have no chance with the sword in this life."

This is the evaluation of him by the only swordsmanship teacher in the town.

After being judged by Robert as having inferior magic talent, Dean Luther was unwilling to drag Lancelot to the swordsmanship teacher's residence to see if Lancelot had any talent for learning martial arts.

The answer disappointed Luther extremely. It was from then on that he lost patience with Lancelot. The missing witch did not give him even half a gold coin as a reward. He could only find ways to get rid of the weak Lancelot.

Extracting pitiful surplus value from special persons.

If Boru's devil training method can really make a qualitative leap in Lancelot's physique, even if he cannot learn black magic, he will still be a brave warrior.

Lancelot was willing to try any means as long as he could rescue the witch from the monsters.

Lancelot, who thought his identity would soon be exposed, still found nothing happened after half a month.

Although he had some doubts about this, heretics were a must-die existence in the eyes of wizards. If Chris or Dean Clayman knew the truth, there was no reason to turn a blind eye.

"Forget it, who cares, you may die." Lancelot muttered in a low voice, and the boy decided to put it behind him. Now he must focus on his new goal: becoming a qualified warrior.

[Speaking of which, why hasn’t Teacher Bolu come yet?]

Lancelot opened his eyes and wanted to go outside the gym to find Boru's whereabouts.

【Where is this?!】

Lancelot was horrified to find himself in a cramped room, and the dim environment severely obstructed his vision.

The surrounding walls were made of dark gray stone bricks. When he reached out and touched them, he found that the stone bricks were covered with a layer of dark green slime and emitted a disgusting stench.

The exit of the room was a rusty iron fence. Lancelot hurriedly ran to the fence and looked around to observe the situation.

Through the gap in the fence, he found that the rooms on both sides of the corridor were all the same. This was a prison!

At this moment, uneasiness and fear filled his heart. Although he had traveled to a different world full of mist in his sleep, now he actually came to a prison while awake.

"Is there anyone?!" Lancelot shouted helplessly, while slamming his hands on the iron fence.

No one responded, not even an echo. It seemed that there was no one else near the cell where Lancelot was.

[Did that guy Boru do it?] Lancelot recalled Boru's expression that morning, and it was probably Boru who teleported himself to this prison through some method.

Lancelot kicked the iron door hard and then collapsed on the ground.

After a morning of strenuous exercise, Lancelot's original physical strength has been consumed by more than half. Without the witch's special potion, it is almost impossible to recover immediately.

"What should I do? Are we going to be trapped alive in this hellish place?" Lancelot leaned against the iron door. The air here was cold and damp, exuding the smell of rotting corpses.

"Hissed." Lancelot didn't know what evil he had done in his previous life. All kinds of troubles would always come one after another.

Now that things have happened, he finally realizes that the luck aspect of talent is completely a decoration.

Because I can't learn magic, I want to become a spearman through training. Is this wrong?

Thinking of this, a sentence suddenly came to Lancelot's mind: "Since ancient times, spearmen have been lucky, and archers have always been lucky."

"Da, da da."

There was a burst of slow footsteps in the corridor. The sound was not loud, but it seemed extremely abrupt in the silent environment.

Lancelot immediately struggled to stand up, buried his face between the bars, and tried his best to look in the direction of the footsteps.

"Ha, Mr. Harvey?"

When the person came up to him, Lancelot froze on the spot.

The man was wearing a dark red gold-rimmed robe, a hood on his head, and a pair of long leather boots with sharp horns. He looked like an aristocratic magician.

What really surprised Lancelot was the other person's face. There was a touch of melancholy between the handsome eyebrows. This was clearly Harvey after taking off his glasses!

"Slave, please pay attention to your words." The red-robed mage said with a cold face, and a ball of fire instantly ignited in his hand, and sparks flew everywhere in an instant.

"Slave?" Lancelot stared at the other person's cold eyes in disbelief, and closed his mouth obediently, looking at this posture as if he would be burned to coke in the next second.

"Master, master?" Lancelot called tentatively.

The red-robed mage extinguished the fireball with a pinch of his palm, frowned and said, "Call me Lord Harvey!"

"Hey, I know you are Teacher Harvey, don't pretend like this."

Lancelot laughed immediately when he heard this, and nodded enthusiastically.

However, after a few seconds, the smile on the boy's face suddenly solidified.

The red-robed mage looked at the white-haired slave in front of him with disgust. At this time, his hands were ignited with blazing flames, and he was obviously on the verge of exploding.

"Um, did you really admit that you were the wrong person?" Lancelot swallowed guiltily when he saw this scene.

(End of chapter)