Godfrey’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, his face stormy as the relentless jingling continued with every step he took. Each bell-like chime mocked his dignity, amplifying his fury. The cold night air only added insult to injury, prickling against his skin as he stood barefoot in his boxer briefs.

Karlos, still doubled over with laughter, wiped tears from his eyes and tried to steady his voice. “I mean… honestly, Godfrey, I’ve seen a lot of weird things, but this? This takes the cake.”

Godfrey shot him a look so sharp it could have cleaved stone. “Laugh all you want, Karlos, but you won’t be laughing when I make him pay for this humiliation.”

“Sure, sure,” Karlos wheezed, waving a hand dismissively. “But for now? I think we’re all just going to enjoy the soundtrack of your rage.”

The faintest glimmer of amusement danced in Merlin’s eyes as he crossed his arms and observed the scene. “While I must admit this is quite the spectacle, I would suggest a more measured response. Charging at Matthew rarely ends well for anyone.”

Godfrey turned his glare on Merlin. “You’re suggesting I let this slide?”

“I’m suggesting,” Merlin replied evenly, “that you bide your time. Matthew thrives on chaos. The more you react, the more you feed him.”

“Bide my time?” Godfrey repeated, incredulous. “He turned me into a walking wind chime!”

Merlin raised a brow, glancing down at Godfrey’s feet. “Yes, well. Consider it a lesson in humility.”

Karlos couldn’t hold back another laugh. “Humility? More like humiliation. But hey, you’ve got to give it to Matthew—he’s creative.”

Godfrey growled under his breath, the jingling punctuating every frustrated movement as he paced. “Creative or not, he’s a menace. And when I find him, I’m—”

“—Going to fall right into his next trap, no doubt,” Merlin interrupted, his tone dry. “Let’s not forget that Matthew is always ten steps ahead. Charging in recklessly will only give him more ammunition.”

Godfrey stopped pacing, the weight of Merlin’s words sinking in despite his boiling anger. “Then what do you suggest?”

Merlin smirked faintly. “Perhaps you should let the jingling serve as a reminder. The best way to deal with Matthew isn’t through brute force—it’s by outsmarting him.”

Karlos clapped his hands together. “Oh, this I’ve got to see. Godfrey, the strategic mastermind, outwitting the king of chaos? This is going to be good.”

Godfrey shot Karlos another glare, but this time, his lips twitched as if fighting back the ghost of a smile. “You’d better hope Matthew’s next target isn't you, Karlos. I’ll be very interested to see how you handle his antics.”

Karlos shrugged, his grin unwavering. “Hey, as long as I get to keep my pants, I think I’ll manage.”

Merlin turned to Godfrey, his tone shifting to something softer. “For now, I’d suggest we focus on more pressing matters. Matthew will tire of his games eventually, and when he does, you’ll have your chance.”

Godfrey sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. “Fine. But I’m not letting this go.”

As the three of them began to move on, the jingling continued to accompany every step Godfrey took. Karlos stifled another laugh, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

“You know,” Karlos said, nudging Godfrey with his elbow, “if this whole knight thing doesn’t work out, you could always join a traveling band. The jingling adds a nice percussion element.”

Godfrey didn’t dignify that with a response, but the faint flush creeping up his neck spoke volumes. Merlin, meanwhile, allowed himself a rare chuckle as the group disappeared into the night, the sound of jingling bells fading into the distance.

“Merlin, how exactly does magic work? Like Matthew for example if his power is to rip off armor and clothes how can he make Godfrey dance? His feet aren't apart of his clothes are they?” Karlos said while looking down at Godfrey’s foot.

“ I forget that you come from a world without magic. The reason Matthew was able to effect Godfrey after he teleported his socks is simply because he actually didn't remove them in the first place. “

“What! So they are still their Karlos stared harder trying to find some hint of outline of the socks in question? “

Merlin’s lips quirked into a faint, knowing smile as Karlos squinted at Godfrey’s feet, his gaze determined. “Oh, they’re still there, all right,” Merlin confirmed, folding his arms as he observed the bewildered expression growing on Karlos’s face. “Matthew’s specialty isn’t destruction. It’s mischief and manipulation. He didn’t remove Godfrey’s socks—he cloaked them in an illusion and imbued them with an enchantment.”

Godfrey froze mid-step, his foot hovering in the air, the jingling momentarily silenced. “What are you saying?” he growled, his voice low and wary.

Merlin continued, his tone patient, like a teacher explaining a particularly tricky concept. “The socks never disappeared. Instead, they were concealed from sight and enchanted to project their… festive quality into the environment. That’s how Matthew is able to affect you even now. The enchantment lingers because it’s tied to the object he altered—the socks themselves.”

Karlos frowned, still staring at Godfrey’s feet as if expecting the socks to materialize at any second. “So… they’re invisible socks?”

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“Essentially,” Merlin replied, raising an eyebrow at Karlos’s incredulous expression.

Godfrey lowered his foot, the jingling resuming with a sharp chime that seemed to mock him anew. His expression darkened further, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. “You mean to tell me,” he said slowly, “that I’ve been running around half-naked with invisible socks this whole time?”

“Precisely,” Merlin said with a small nod, his calm demeanor doing little to soothe the storm brewing within Godfrey. “And as long as the enchantment remains active, the effects will persist.”

Karlos snickered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, Matthew’s got layers. It’s not enough to just embarrass you—he’s gotta do it in a way that’s technically reversible but still drives you nuts.”

Godfrey’s fists clenched. “Then reverse it,” he demanded, glaring at Merlin with an intensity that could have set the air ablaze.

Merlin raised a hand, signaling for patience. “Unraveling Matthew’s magic isn’t quite that simple. His enchantments are… unconventional, to say the least. They operate on a combination of intent, humor, and sheer audacity.”

“That sounds fake,” Karlos interjected, his brow furrowing. “How does ‘audacity’ fuel magic?”

Merlin tilted his head thoughtfully. “It’s not fake, though it may seem absurd to someone unfamiliar with the principles. Magic is as much an expression of the caster’s personality as it is a manipulation of energy. Matthew’s magic works because he believes it will. And because, quite frankly, he finds it funny.”

Karlos let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “So, his magic is just… chaos wrapped in a joke?”

“Essentially,” Merlin said, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Though don’t underestimate its complexity. The humor might be the delivery mechanism, but the underlying magic requires precision.”

“Great,” Godfrey muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “So how do we fix this?”

Merlin looked at him evenly, the faintest hint of mischief in his own eyes now. “You’ll have to convince Matthew to undo it himself.”

“Not happening,” Godfrey snapped.

Karlos grinned, leaning in with mock seriousness. “Or, hear me out, you could just embrace it. The jingling kind of grows on you after a while.”

Godfrey shot him a look that promised retribution. “You’re not helping.”

Merlin chuckled softly, his voice wry. “The alternative, of course, is tracking Matthew down and besting him at his own game. Though I must warn you, that rarely ends in the victor’s favor.”

“ A third option would be to get out of Matthews's spell range.”

“The final option would be either spontaneously gain a resistance to magic. Or to find a powerful disruption tool.

As Godfrey took his deep breath, attempting to summon the raw anger needed to shatter Matthew’s enchantment, a low, ancient voice rumbled from the shadows of Merlin’s satchel. It was a voice that carried the weight of centuries, dry and sharp as parchment.

“Enough of this nonsense, Merlin,” the voice declared, cutting through the tension like a dagger.

All three men froze. Godfrey’s eyes snapped open, his gaze darting toward the floating book levitating at Karlos's side.

The ancient tome hovered just above Karlos’s shoulder, its leather-bound cover etched with arcane symbols that seemed to writhe and twist in the faint moonlight. Its spine creaked like old bones as it slowly opened, pages flipping with an unseen wind until it stopped on a single glowing script.

Merlin sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ah, the self proclaimed trainer,” he said, his tone laced with resignation. “I see you’ve decided to weigh in.”

The voice emanated from the book again, louder this time, its tone dripping with condescension. “Because clearly, Merlin, your usual penchant for overcomplication is leading these poor fools nowhere. Honestly, invisible socks? Enchanted jingling? Is this truly the best use of my time?”

Karlos leaned away slightly, his wide eyes fixed on the book. “Uh… did my book just insult you? Is that normal?”

“Very,” Merlin replied flatly, shooting the tome a glare. “Theodric is an ancient sentient grimoire with opinions far too strong for his own good.”

Godfrey stepped forward, the jingling from his feet cutting through the air like an ominous prelude. His towering frame loomed over the book, his fists still clenched. “If this thing has a solution, it better spit it out now before I tear it in half.”

Theodric let out a dry, dismissive laugh. “Oh, by all means, try, boy. I’d relish watching your primitive brute force attempt to destroy me. Spoiler: you’d fail.”

Karlos snorted, unable to hold back a laugh. “I like this book.”

Godfrey’s face darkened, his patience hanging by a thread. “Karlos, control your… book, or I swear—”

“Oh, spare me the melodrama,” Theodric interrupted. “You mortals and your fragile egos. Fine, if it will expedite this farce, I’ll help. But on one condition.”

Merlin groaned audibly. “Of course there’s a condition. There’s always a condition.”

Theodric ignored him. “Godfrey must humble himself. This enchantment thrives on indignity. If you want to dispel it, you must embrace the humiliation fully and with grace.”

Karlos burst out laughing again, doubling over. “Oh, this is gold! Godfrey, you have to be nice to the spell. You’ve got to… to accept your inner jingle!”

“Shut up,” Godfrey growled, his teeth clenched. He turned back to the floating book, his voice dangerously low. “If I humor your ridiculous idea, will this actually work?”

Theodric’s tone turned smug. “Of course it will. I am always right.”

Merlin sighed, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and mild amusement. “Godfrey, you have two choices: swallow your pride or keep jingling indefinitely.”

“Three choices,” Theodric corrected. “He could also attempt brute force and fail spectacularly. I’d enjoy that.”

Godfrey glared at the book, his jaw flexing as he fought the urge to hurl it into the nearest wall. Finally, with a long, reluctant exhale, he muttered, “Fine. What do I have to do?”

Theodric’s pages flipped again, the glowing script shifting. “Dance.”

“Excuse me?” Godfrey’s voice was sharp, his glare lethal.

“You heard me, oaf. Dance. Enthusiastically. Embrace the absurdity. Allow the enchantment to exhaust itself in the face of your newfound ‘acceptance.’”

Karlos, tears streaming down his face, could barely contain himself. “Godfrey… you have to dance like nobody’s watching. Except we totally are.”

Merlin, to his credit, kept a straight face. “It’s not entirely unfeasible. Matthew’s magic is fueled by your resistance to his mischief. If you defuse his intent by playing along…”

Godfrey’s expression was a storm of fury, disbelief, and reluctant understanding. His fists unclenched as he turned his gaze to Karlos, who was already preparing to record the spectacle. “If you so much as breathe a word of this later,” Godfrey growled, “I’ll make you regret it.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Karlos managed between gasps of laughter. “This one’s for the history books.”

Taking a deep breath, Godfrey stood tall, his towering frame suddenly awkward as he began to stomp in rhythm. The jingling filled the air, an unintentional melody that quickly spiraled into hilarity as he awkwardly added a spin. The ground beneath his feet seemed to vibrate with each reluctant jig.

Theodric cackled gleefully. “Yes, that’s the spirit! More enthusiasm! Perhaps a twirl?”

Godfrey shot the book a withering glare but reluctantly complied, throwing in a dramatic pirouette that nearly toppled him over. The jingling reached a crescendo, each chime like a mocking laugh, before abruptly silencing.

Merlin raised a hand, his fingers glowing faintly as he cast a quick detection spell. The enchantment was gone. “It worked,” he confirmed with a faint smile. “The enchantment dissipated.”

Karlos collapsed onto the ground, howling with laughter. “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Godfrey, you’re a hero.”

Godfrey, still breathing heavily, glared at the book. “If this ever happens again—”

“Oh, calm yourself,” Theodric said, his tone smug. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Godfrey turned on his heel, stomping off into the night. Karlos scrambled after him, still laughing, while Merlin gently closed Theodric and tucked him back into his satchel.

“Another successful lesson in humility,” Merlin murmured, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he followed the jingling-free knight into the darkness.