Welcome to the Dark Age

Nothing ruins your day like a quest with a ransom note.

Especially when you're a fake wizard with real problems.

I was supposed to be dead. Instead, I'm stumbling through medieval Britain with Merlin's ghost backseat-driving my magical education.

And now? Princess Guinevere's gone missing, and everyone's looking at me like I'm supposed to know what to do about it.

Fantastic.

Nothing says "qualified wizard" like leading a rescue party of misfits—a prince with anger issues, a berserker who thinks diplomacy means hitting people slightly less hard, and me, still trying to figure out which end of my sword shoots fire.

Between dodging Saxon war parties, navigating the Enchanted Forest, and searching for a Dark Tower that's playing hard to get, I'm starting to think death might have been the easier option.

Welcome to the Dark Tower, where the quests are impossible, the magic is unreliable, and historical accuracy is someone else's problem.