2. Follow narration and system prompts.
3. All issued quests must be completed.
Customer Notice:
The Trial Chamber exists to provide players with an immersive role-playing experience. By stepping into this space, you automatically form a Player Service Contract with the Chamber. You acknowledge unconditional compliance with all rules. Violation of any of the three rules will result in punishment. Thank you for your cooperation.
Harry stared blankly at the glowing script.
Trial Chamber?
Role-playing service?
Contract??
He'd only followed Quirrell through the entrance room!
Where was Quirrell now?
Where were Hermione and Ron?
His mind flooded with questions. He stopped reading entirely and sprinted across the golden hall, shouting their names.
Only his own echo answered.
Then the stone tablet flickered—new lines forming like fresh ink.
Player: Quirinus Quirrell has used magic illegally. Rule 1 violated.
Punishment: Electric Shock.
Punishment Complete.
"Quirrell?!"
Harry ran back to the tablet, scanning frantically.
At the bottom, in tiny neat print—
Current Players: 4
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Quirinus Quirrell
Scenario Match in Progress…
Touch [Yes] under your name to confirm participation.
Participation?
Confirm match?
What if he pressed No?
He hesitated—just long enough for the tablet to pulse again.
Player Ron Weasley refused participation.
Rule 2 violated.
Punishment: Electric Shock.
Punishment Complete.
Harry: "..."
Now he understood—Ron and Hermione must be standing before identical tablets somewhere. The chamber clearly didn't allow refusal. It didn't even allow delays.
This was the mother of all unfair contracts.
He reread the rules.
He reread the polite yet oppressive customer notice.
"Violating any rule will result in punishment…
Mandatory compliance…
This pushy tone feels weirdly familiar…"
It felt like Vaughn wrote it.
While Harry grimaced, Hermione's name lit up—then Quirrell's.
They had confirmed.
"…Looks like there really is no choice."
Harry groaned, placed his hand on Yes, and his name lit up too.
Seconds later—
Player Ron Weasley confirmed.
All players matched.
Scenario Selected: Fairy-Tale Town
Story Template: Hero vs Dragon
Team Assignment—
Team A: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger
Team B: Ron Weasley, Quirinus Quirrell
Good luck, players.
The golden hall trembled.
The floor fractured like cracking glass—tiles rising, sinking, collapsing. Harry clung desperately to the tablet as the entire hall crumbled around him.
The world dissolved into golden cubes—pouring downward like sand—then surged back upward, painting new shapes:
—brown earth
—rolling green hills
—flat cardboard trees popping upright
—a forest taking shape
—a toy-like town unfolding out of the ground
—waterwheel, millhouse, cottages, turrets
—and overhead, a folded paper sky unrolled blue as the sun clicked into place.
A warm, majestic voice echoed across this newly-built world.
"Long, long ago, in the Forest Kingdom, there lived a beautiful princess beloved by all…"
KRACK.
The blue sky turned black, lightning writhing like snakes.
A huge silhouette blotted the heavens, swooping toward the cardboard castle.
"…until one stormy night… the dragon came."
The voice shifted into a monstrous roar.
The dragon perched on the castle tower, its eyes glowing crimson moons.
And then—
A line of glowing text appeared beside it, as if subtitles:
[Forest Kingdom! Your princess is mine!
Offer gold to please the mighty Fire Dragon, or she dies! HAHAHA!]
Yes. The dragon "spoke" in subtitles.
Harry could no longer decide what expression to make.
The narration rolled on:
"To rescue the princess, the King called for heroes far and wide.
You, brave adventurer, are now traveling with your companion to the Forest Kingdom."
Companion?
Harry spun—
"Hermione!"
She stood beside him, whole and unharmed.
…
Meanwhile, behind the mountains…
Ron Weasley, now sporting a ridiculous 爆炸头—a puffed-out afro from the teleportation shock—stared at Quirrell, who had the exact same hairstyle.
"You—"
"Silence, Weasley."
Quirrell's face twisted with agony. In his skull, Voldemort screamed—venomous whispers lashing his mind.
"Dumbledore dares mock the Dark Lord—
I will kill him—KILL HIM—"
"A-ah—f-forgive me—my Lord…" Quirrell collapsed to his knees, sobbing. "Endure… please endure… once I have the Stone, I will resurrect you and we shall destroy Dumbledore—just please, not now—"
Gradually, the mental screaming faded.
The pain receded.
Quirrell lifted his head, trembling—just in time to hear the narration conclude for their team:
"And you, as a servant of the Dragon, shall head to the lair with your companion."
Companion.
Quirrell looked at Ron—who was desperately trying to look invisible.
"Why are you here, Weasley?"
Ron, who had been terrified seconds earlier, suddenly remembered something important:
Quirrell can't use magic.
Violating rules triggers punishment lightning.
His fear vanished.
"Hmph! If you can be here, why can't we?"
Quirrell gritted his teeth. The rules hovering above Ron's head—Companion (cannot attack teammates)—mocked him with their safety.
He managed a stiff smile.
"We must cooperate, Weasley. Follow the narration. We are required to go to the monster lair."
Ron shuddered at the memory of lightning bolting through his skull.
"…Alright."
Together—uneasy allies—they trudged toward the cardboard forest.
The moment they neared the lair, narration boomed again:
"Your Dragon Lord must send brandy to the front lines to strengthen his flames.
The Lizard Captain entrusts this sacred task to you."
FWIP—
A "lizard captain"—who looked nothing like a lizard—skated toward them on a wooden cutout like a sliding sticker.
Dialogue boxes popped from its mouth:
[Fools! Deliver the brandy at once!]
[Beware forest monsters that covet it! Protect it or face the Dragon's wrath!]
[Before departing, consult Hippo, Lion, and Hyena. Only one is a true guide.]
Ron and Quirrell exchanged looks.
"…What now?"
"Find them."
The monsters weren't hard to locate. Each wore a floating name tag.
Narration resumed:
"Hippo, Lion, and Hyena refuse to admit who is the guide.
Hippo says: 'Hyena is the guide.'
Ron Weasley quickly deduces the truth, but withholds the answer."
What?
Quirrell glared at Ron.
"You figured it out?"
Ron stared back, bewildered.
"Er—I didn't! The narration is lying!"
"I believe it. You don't seem like you have that kind of brain."
Ron felt very insulted. But also—Quirrell wasn't wrong.
Quirrell folded his arms confidently.
"The answer is Hyena."
The narration responded immediately:
"You choose Hyena.
Moments later, forest monsters steal all the brandy.
Task failed.
Rule 3 violated.
Punishment: Electric Shock."
KA-CRACK.
Silver-blue lightning fell like divine wrath.
Both Quirrell and Ron jerked violently, limbs spasming, magic tearing chaotically through their nerves.
Smoke curled from Ron's mouth as he croaked:
"W-was that worse than last time?
And you—you said you were sure!"
"Shut up, Weasley!"
But Ron had tasted blood.
"And I thought you were some genius dark wizard—hah! No wonder everyone at school thinks you're pathetic!"
Quirrell considered murdering him on the spot.
But punishment lightning crackled ominously overhead.
He swallowed the urge.
The narration boomed once more:
"Punishment complete.
Because you failed, the Dragon's rage descends."
"…Huh?"
Ron blinked.
Quirrell blinked.
"This is… the next task?" Ron whispered.
"Likely symbolic difficulty escalation," Quirrell muttered. "There is no real dragon. This world is like a 3D pop-up storybook—a tabletop board game. Everything follows narration cues.
The dragon cannot be real—"
WHOOOOOOOOM.
A shadow fell.
They looked up.
A massive fire dragon plunged from the sky—scales molten red, wings beating with hurricane force.
Its jaws opened—
and fire blazed.
Meanwhile, on the heroes' side…
Harry and Hermione confronted the same riddle.
Harry felt his brain melting.
"This… this isn't solvable! Who makes questions like this?!"
Hermione frowned in thought.
Then—
"I've got it."
"WHAT?"
She explained calmly:
"Only the true guide tells the truth.
Hippo says: 'Hyena is the guide.'
Let's test possibilities—
Assume Hippo is guide.
Then Hippo tells truth → Hyena is guide → contradiction. Two guides.
Assume Hyena is guide.
Then Hippo must be lying → Hyena is not guide → contradiction.
Thus the only possibility left—
Lion is the guide."
Harry didn't understand a word,
but he was very impressed.
The narration chimed:
"You choose Lion.
Lion guides you safely.
Fire-resistant potion delivered.
Without brandy, the fire dragon does not appear.
You and fellow heroes destroy the lair and advance toward the dragon's castle!"
"Fairy-Tale Town complete."
Rewards:
Ron Weasley, Quirinus Quirrell — None (punishment already applied)
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger — Wish-Granting Paintbrush
Hero Team leads 1–0!
"But heroes—your journey has only begun…"
The cardboard world shattered again, dissolving into golden cubes.
Those cubes arranged themselves into a floating, massive scroll—unrolling across the void like a continent.
A painted castle emerged.
Harry and Hermione were pulled inside.
Above the Trial Chamber…
Vaughn and Dumbledore watched the miniature world shift.
From their vantage point, Fairy-Tale Town was a gigantic pop-up book—its pages flipping to reveal grasslands, forests, mountains, suns rising and setting.
Alchemy and magic braided together into impossible beauty.
"I never imagined you had such a childlike heart, Vaughn," Dumbledore teased.
Vaughn ignored him, eyes glowing as he studied the collapse and reconstruction of the painting.
He finally murmured:
"I chose fairy-tales because they're simple. Not complex.
I just proposed the idea—an experimental concept. I wanted to see what you and alchemy could achieve."
"And? Satisfied?" asked Dumbledore.
"Very." Vaughn's gaze sharpened. "It's far from my final goal. But the path is visible now.
A book… a painting… can be a world.
Alchemy's command over space and dimensions is incredible."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Want to go inside? You've never entered after designing the levels."
"Of course."
But Vaughn lifted a brow.
"You'll transfer control of the painting to me. Especially rule-authority."
The Trial Chamber used an ancient Hogwarts magic—
contract magic older than Unbreakable Vows.
Dumbledore grimaced.
"You don't trust me?"
"I trust anyone else more than you," Vaughn replied warmly.
"..."
Reluctantly, Dumbledore summoned a scroll—plain to normal eyes, but blindingly radiant to them.
Vaughn saw endless runes interwoven into a single seamless brilliance.
"The painting's core and control key," Dumbledore explained.
Vaughn extended a hand.
Dumbledore hesitated.
"…And the control incantation?"
Vaughn smiled.
"Why? You don't trust me?"
"Not even a little."
"…Fair."
They quietly ignored each other's hypocrisy.
"Harry and Quirrell have entered," Dumbledore reminded.
"Then let's join them."
They clasped hands—
and descended.
The painted world expanded beneath them, swelling outward until it filled the horizon.
Then—
Blue sky.
Warm sunlight.
A winding road over hills toward a distant town.
Forests swaying.
A castle silhouette far beyond the trees.
Dumbledore released his hand and declared:
"Welcome, dear boy, to the world inside the painting."
Vaughn gazed around.
He felt the wind.
Smelled the earth.
Felt the prickling warmth of sun on his arms.
This wasn't an illusion.
This wasn't a magical painting.
This was reality—absorbed into a painting.
He whispered:
"You're… pulling pieces of the real world inside."
Dumbledore sighed wistfully.
"Not perfectly. Living beings cannot be replicated.
The townsfolk you see are puppets."
Marionettes created with peak Transfiguration and charmwork.
Vaughn's eyes shone.
The world inside the painting stretched before them—
a kingdom awaiting players.
PS: I've been releasing chapters daily . Honestly, it hurts seeing almost no support on Patreon after all that work.
complete fic (all chapters ) are already up on P@treon → patreon.com/FinalArcHero789
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