Sir Reginald was deeply ashamed of his performance in the first dream lesson. He spent the morning in quiet contemplation, refusing even to look at the Dust Bunnies as they tidied the dungeon.
"I have failed, Dungeon Core," he said to me later that day, his voice heavy with the weight of his guilt. "The kitten... its innocence was too pure. My warrior's spirit is unable to strike such a creature. I am a disgrace to my guild."
FaeLina, Zazu, Pip and I held a private, psychic "staff meeting" to discuss our problematic student.
'He's a lost cause!' FaeLina fretted. 'His 'Cuteness Paralysis' is a terminal condition! We should just tell the Silver Griffins their knight is allergic to fluff and send him home!'
Zazu, however, was more thoughtful. 'His problem is not a lack of courage,' the elf's thoughts chimed in. 'It is a flawed worldview. He has been taught that all small and cute things are, by definition, helpless. We simply need to show him that this is not always true.'
'Zazu is right,' I agreed, finalizing my new, much more chaotic lesson plan. 'Sir Reginald's worldview is the problem. So, tonight, we will correct it with a practical demonstration.'
That evening, Sir Reginald went to sleep with a grim determination. He appeared on the dream-beach, his silver armor gleaming. Zazu and Pip's dream-selves were there too, standing at a safe distance to observe.
'Welcome back, Sir Reginald,' my voice echoed around them. 'Your failure yesterday was not one of courage, but of perception. Tonight's lesson will be about... subverting expectations.'
With a wave of my will, the twilight beach dissolved. The sand and sea were replaced by a beautiful, sun-dappled forest clearing. The air was warm, and the sound of birdsong filled the air. It was idyllic.
'Your test is to survive in this forest for five minutes,' I explained.
Reginald looked around, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Survive? But this place is wonderful. What is the threat?"
As if on cue, a single, adorable squirrel with a big, bushy tail and huge, black eyes scampered down a nearby oak tree. It stopped at the bottom, sat up on its hind legs, and twitched its nose.
Sir Reginald's entire posture softened. A gentle smile touched his lips. "Oh, look!" he whispered. "A little forest friend! Hello there, little fellow!"
The squirrel twitched its nose again. Then it reached behind its back, pulled out a tiny, razor-sharp dagger, and threw it with expert precision.
THWIP!
The tiny dagger embedded itself in the tree trunk right next to Reginald's head, quivering from the force of the impact.
Sir Reginald was stunned into silence. Before he could process what had just happened, the forest came alive. Dozens more squirrels, all armed with an assortment of tiny, wicked-looking weapons, began to emerge from the trees. Some had daggers, others had little crossbows, and one particularly large one was holding a miniature, double-bladed battle-axe. They began chittering, not with playful energy, but with the angry, unified sound of a tiny, fluffy army.
A system prompt appeared in my private view.
> [Training Simulation Activated]
> Enemy: 'The Acorn Avengers' - Vicious Squirrel Syndicate (x30)
> Threat Level: Surprisingly High
> Special Abilities: Coordinated Nut-Throwing, Dagger-Fu, Unholy Alliance with Angry Blue jays.>
"Squeak(Attack)!" the lead squirrel squeaked. The Acorn Avengers charged.
What followed was five minutes of pure, unfiltered chaos. Sir Reginald was completely overwhelmed. He tried to defend himself, but his instincts still screamed at him not to harm the adorable creatures.
"Begone, you adorable little menaces!" he shouted, using the flat of his sword to gently push one away. It responded by climbing up his leg and trying to stab him with it's tiny sword.
Another group worked together to fire a volley of acorns at his face with stunning accuracy. Zazu and Pip were watching from the edge of the clearing, trying and failing to suppress their laughter as the perfect, noble knight was brought to his knees by a swarm of angry, weaponized rodents.
He was being defeated again. A particularly vicious squirrel was trying to unscrew the plume from his helmet while another bit his armored boot.
'They are not helpless, Sir Reginald!' my voice boomed through the chaos. 'Look at them! They are a threat! Your refusal to fight back is not kindness; it is a failure to protect yourself! Defend yourself!'
My words, and a sharp poke from a squirrel's tiny spear, finally broke through his paralysis. He saw a squirrel with the tiny battle-axe about to chop at his foot. This time, he reacted. He didn't swing to kill. He moved with lightning speed, using the flat of his blade to parry the tiny axe.
CLANG!
The sound of steel on steel, however tiny, echoed in the clearing. The parry worked. The squirrel was thrown off-balance, squeaking with surprise.
A look of revelation dawned on Sir Reginald's face. He didn't have to hurt them to defend himself.
He began to fight. It was a beautiful, ridiculous dance. He used his superior skill and size not to crush his tiny opponents, but to disarm and outmaneuver them. He parried a dagger, blocked a volley of acorns with his shield, and used a gentle leg sweep to trip a whole squad of them. He was treating the life-or-death battle like a very strange, very fluffy fencing match.
The five minutes were up. The squirrels, and their tiny weapons, vanished into thin air.
Sir Reginald was left panting in the center of the clearing, his perfect armor covered in acorns and tiny footprints. But he was standing tall. He had passed the test.
['Acute Cuteness Paralysis' has been downgraded to 'Mild Cuteness Hesitation'.]
[Sir Reginald has gained a new skill: 'Gentle Parry'.]
He had learned his lessons.