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

The sun had gone down and the moonlight had taken over the land in Camelot.

Lancelot, his blond hair tied in a ponytail and his blade sheathed in his hand walked down the forest by himself.

On his other hand, he held a lantern filled with fire flies to help light up the way. He wasn't dressed in his usual Knight wear, this time he wore a casual dress, one comfortable enough to sleep in.

Wandering around the forest for a couple minutes, Lancelot suddenly stopped when he spotted the 'X' marking on the ground.

His eyes widened a bit.

"Hey! I received the letter! And I'm here! Alone! I didn't bring anyone with me!!!" He yelled to the trees, his eyes constantly checking his surroundings.

He had indeed received a mysterious letter, one that slipped through the cracks of his window while he was asleep a night before.

Whoever they were, they wanted to meet him in person, just him, he was to come alone. Though he thought about it for a while; he finally came to a conclusion to meet whoever these people were.

Standing out in the open for a long time, Lancelot felt whoever had sent him the letter no longer wanted to meet up— a day had passed after all, and thus, he turned around, ready to leave.

Whooosh~

A rush of wind phased him from behind.

Instantly, Lancelot drew out his blade and turned around.

Sitting on the rock in front of him, was a man, dressed in black, his hair covering his face, and his clock reaching to touching the ground.

Behind the man, were other individuals dressed in black, each one of them giving out auras that would make anyone run upon first sight.

"Good evening Lancelot of the Roundtable. I see you took my invitation." The individual on the rock spoke.

'Where did they come from? I didn't sense anything? Wait, that shouldn't be my concern, they know who I am… I should tread carefully.' Lancelot thought to himself.

"Who are you? And why have you asked to meet me here?"

"Wise questions. We are the Red Wings, born from the power of the goddess, to vanquish those who oppose."

The individual spoke.

Lancelot's face was hitched with fear, 'The Red wings? The one Belinda and her Highness warned us about? What are they doing here?!'.

"You don't have to worry, we are not here to kill you, that would be quite the scene if you ask me."

The individual stood up, walking out of the darkness.

As he stepped forward, the moonlight touched his face, revealing it to be Scorpion, his face covered under the cloak.

Lancelot took a few steps back, not willing to take any risk with them.

"Killing you is not our mission, what we want… is to kill the man who resides in the base of Camelot." Scorpion uttered coldy.

"M-Man?"

"Yes, the one who tramples all logic, the one you call Traveler, The God Tamer."

Lancelot quickly picked up on it, 'Is he talking about the prime minister? No one calls him the God Tamer.'

"Do you recall who I'm speaking about?" Asked Scorpion.

"And so what if I do? What do you want with him? And what does that have to do with me?" Lancelot retorted.

"You hate him, do you not?"

The question lingered in Lancelot's head for a while, "What?".

"Hatred is a powerful tool that, if used wisely, can accomplish so many things. You and I, we want the same thing, you want The Traveler out of Camelot, and we want him in Unakel, we both follow the same path, so why don't we work together to acquire that?".

Scorpion stretched out his hand for a shake.

Lancelot, feeling weary with so many questions in his mind, stared at Scorpion's outstretched hand for a while.

How does a random stranger know what he feels for the Traveler?

"You know not what I feel? I am a knight-"

"Cut the bullshit, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Scorpion fired back, "The longer you keep this up, the more cities will fall in Camelot, we won't stop until the whole country drops to the ground."

That was when the realization hit him.

The man before him— the Red Wings — all connected to the attacks that had been happening in Camelot.

"It was…you," he muttered.

"Oh you're catching on." Scorpion grinned, "Very good, then you understand we can't be stopped, every move, every thought, every defense you try to bring up will all fall under the might of the Red Wings… your resistance is simply pointless".

Lancelot looked to the ground —

"Whatever sense of logic you think you have, moral, ambition or motivation, all play useless when faced with overwhelming power. Fear creeps in, and thoughts become entangled by the burning chances of survival, this is the fate that awaits Camelot, the fate that I have written." Scorpion spread his arms apart, "So ask yourself, in this very moment, is it wise to refuse my offer?

How many of your people do you think I'm willing to kill just to get my hands on the Traveler? How many of your good soldiers will I slaughter like animals!"

Hahahah!

"Answer me Lancelot! Choose the path before you, and let me guide them to the afterlife!"

"Shut uppppp!!!"

Lancelot's blade lit up with magic as he launched himself forward, anger written all over his face.

Grin!

Scorpion stepped to the side, the blade splashing passed him as he and Lancelot's eyes locked.

With one hand, he pulled Lancelot's shirt from the back, and pulled him back just to give him a headbutt.

Before Lancelot could tell what was happening, Scorpion had already begun raining down bullets of punches, each one hitting a vital part on his body.

Blood spewed everywhere, staining the forest ground red. His body staggered with each punch that connected to his face.

It felt like a thousand punches had touched his bones when in reality, it was only a single one. The hit caused every bone in his body to react.

Until — Lancelot fell to his knees, his hand around his throat as he struggled to breathe, his entire face covered in bruises.

His face was hitched with shock — Scorpion had beaten him so bad, he wasn't able to lay a single finger — he? One of the strongest Knights in Camelot.

As he kept coughing, trying to catch his breath.

Scorpion appeared in front of him–

"So, I ask again, Lancelot of the Round table, do you accept my offer?"

The wide grin on shadow's was more terrifying than the attacks he had given Lancelot.

...

A/N

Please let me know if the story has been to your liking so far? I don't want to end up making silly mistakes, I have alot of arcs in the bag.