《In the World Of Dominance》 Prologue: So, This Is My Life Now? ??Prologue?? Ping! The sound jolts me from my momentary daze. It¡¯s almost the end of the month, but the money I¡¯m expecting still hasn¡¯t arrived. Did I get scammed? I reach for my phone, uninterested¡ªuntil my eyes widen at the notification: ¡°Payment has been sent.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± A wide smile spreads across my face. He¡¯s a legit client! I retract my earlier doubts, my excitement bubbling up. I can¡¯t resist licking the leftover cheese powder from my fingers¡ªevery bit of my late-night cheesy curls worth it. With adrenaline pumping, I quickly clean my hands with a wet wipe and open my banking app to confirm. It¡¯s midnight, and there I am, sprawled in front of my computer, the screen¡¯s glow illuminating my workspace. Snack crumbs scatter the table, and my once-fizzy soft drink lies empty, drained to the last drop. I flick the can into the trash with a triumphant wrist flick. Finally, I can buy my dream shoes! I exclaim, twirling in my office chair. For six long months, I¡¯ve been stashing spare change and savings into a time-deposit account to take advantage of compounding interest. The wait is over¡ªall for this moment. I¡¯ve been counting down to this month, fingers crossed they still have my size in stock. After wrapping up my latest project, I shut down my computer and stretch my hands before sinking into bed. Satisfaction washes over me¡ªnothing beats waking up to see my bank account glimmer with cash! After a refreshing four-hour nap and a quick shower, I pull on the first outfit I find in my closet, a playful ensemble that matches my buoyant mood. I twist my hair into a messy bun, feeling the rush of anticipation. My new home still holds that delightful fresh scent; it¡¯s only been four months since I bought it, but it already feels like a dream come true. Sure, I don¡¯t have a car yet, but that can wait¡ªtoday is all about one thing¡­ ¡°My dream shoes!¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Walking through the massive entrance of the popular mall, I¡¯m nearly overwhelmed by its sheer size, my excitement pulling me in every direction. But as soon as I grasp the shopping bag with my new kicks¡ªon sale, no less¡ªit feels like I¡¯ve hit the jackpot. I can almost hear celebratory cheers in my mind: a new home, a thriving career, and now, the shoes I¡¯ve dreamed of for ages. And what¡¯s a celebration without a drink? This is living!! ¡°Time to go home!¡± As I push open the mall¡¯s glass door, a gust of air from the entrance sweeps past, startling me. My shopping bag slips from my hand, and I lunge forward to catch it. But as I grab hold, the world around me lurches, a jolt that leaves me stumbling. I shake my head, thinking it¡¯s just lack of sleep. But when I regain my balance, I¡¯m confronted by a sight that stops me cold. What the¡­ hell? The bustling mall is gone, replaced by a nightmarish battlefield where armored warriors on horseback clash in a frenzied battle. The clash of swords, the snorts of war horses, and fierce war cries fill the air, drowning out all rational thought. It¡¯s like I¡¯ve stepped straight into a scene from 300¡ªbut more vivid, more real, more terrifying. Frozen in place, my mind scrambles to process the chaos before me. My cranberry drink trembles in my hand as I avert my gaze toward the brutal clash, where the thunder of hooves and warriors¡¯ roars drown out my thoughts, overwhelming my senses. I try to step back, but I collide with someone, losing my grip on the drink. Sticky, bright liquid splashes across my shirt, its absurd normalcy jarring against the horrific scene unfolding around me. I stumble backward, panic flaring as I mutter frantic curses under my breath. Shit! Shit! What the hell is happening?! ¡°This must be a dream. It has to be.¡± The words slip out like a desperate prayer, every syllable tinged with disbelief. I scan the chaos around me, catching glimpses of the endless desert stretching beyond the battlefield. ¡°There¡¯s no way this is real.¡± Then, something heavy crashes to the ground in front of me¡ªa severed head rolls to my feet, blood still streaming from its neck. Its lifeless eyes twitch as if they¡¯re about to open, and for one horrifying moment, they lock onto mine. A wave of nausea hits, and I stagger backward in terror. My legs buckle, and I collapse onto the scorching sand, clutching my shopping bag as if it¡¯s my last link to sanity. You know how it goes in those fantasy stories: one minute, you¡¯re lounging in your newly purchased house, planning your future¡ªand the next, bam! You¡¯re transported to another world. But instead of a magical princess, a cunning villainess, or a super-powered hero, you¡¯re just¡­ you. No royal bloodline, no epic abilities, and definitely no mystical creature sidekick. Just a regular person with no money, no connections, and, oh yeah¡ªno idea how to get home. Perfect! You¡¯d think I¡¯d at least get some cool perks out of this. Maybe a wise old mentor to give me cryptic advice? Nope. A magical artifact I could use to get back home? ha, I wish! I once dreamed of a princess lift, but instead, I¡¯m dragged around like a sack of potatoes, barely conscious and soaked in what¡¯s probably an absurd amount of cranberry juice¡­ mixed with something far more disturbing. Ugh, the smell! And to top it off? I¡¯m tossed into a pile of burning bodies, almost getting cremated alive. Yup, definitely the dream escape I was hoping for. Now, instead of wondering what¡¯s for dinner, I¡¯m focused on survival in a place where people casually chop off heads and ride into battle like it¡¯s just another day at the spa. Whoever thought getting isekai¡¯d was a good idea? Let me find them and give them a good smack. But hey, maybe I¡¯ll figure out a way out of this mess. Or at least get a refund on those shoes I never got to wear. Welcome to my life¡ªor whatever this is now. Can I at least get a guideline or a warning sign?! Chapter 1: Where in the world am I? I awaken abruptly, the shrill sound of my alarm yanking me from the depths of unconsciousness. With a groggy hand, I fumble for my phone and silence the relentless sound. ¡®What a horrendous nightmare...¡¯ I mumble to myself, still haunted by the vividness of the dream. My heart pounds in my chest as I lay in the familiar comfort of my bed, trying to shake off the lingering dread. Needing to ground myself in reality, I slide out from beneath the warm covers and scan around before I head to the kitchen. Yes, this is my house. I pour myself a glass of water, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. As I sip, I wander over to the living room window and push it open. The morning air is crisp, and I take a deep breath, allowing the tranquility of the scene to wash over me. Outside, the village is serene, untouched by the chaos of my dream. A smile lingers on my lips as the realization settles in: it was all just a dream. My eyes follow a bird gliding gracefully across the sky, a symbol of freedom and peace. But wait¡ªsomething¡¯s off. A faint wisp of smoke trails behind the bird, curling upward like a dark omen. My pulse quickens as the peaceful illusion shatters, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. My senses slowly return, and I find myself being carried like a dead cow. One man grips my wrists while another clutches my ankles, dragging me somewhere I don¡¯t know. Just when I thought I had escaped the nightmare, it''s clear to me now what is dream and reality. With a sickening thud, they toss me into a burning pile of bodies that freak the shit out of me. I scramble frantically to free myself from the searing heat, only to find my escape cut short by a dozen swords aimed at my neck. My screams pierce the air, drawing the attention of the soldiers. But who could blame me? Anyone would scream if they suddenly faced the threat of being cremated alive! ¡°Wait!¡± I throw my hands up in surrender, only to notice the shopping bag I¡¯d been carrying is gone. Where are my shoes?! A surge of emotions hits me all at once¡ªdespair, confusion, pain¡ªand the dread that this is real. The soldiers surrounding me glance at each other, their expressions ranging from disgust to confusion. They exchange words I can¡¯t quite make out, muttering as they size me up. I carefully look around me just to confirm what¡¯s going on right now because everything doesn¡¯t really make any sense. From what I can see, they are in the war, and the winners are the soldiers wearing red ornaments, and the pile of bodies burning behind me is¡ªno, let¡¯s stop thinking about it.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°I... I¡¯m not one of them,¡± I stammer, trying to steady my voice as I look from one warrior to the next. They narrow their eyes, but I can tell they understand me. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t belong here. I was just passing by and somehow got caught up in... whatever this is. Just let me go¡ªI swear, I¡¯ll forget all of it!¡± I can feel my heart thudding, each beat a desperate plea. The silence stretches, thick and stifling. ¡°What¡¯s happening over there?¡± A man steps forward, appearing to be in his late thirties, his gaze as sharp as his armor. I¡¯m on my knees, hands raised in surrender, while another soldier¡¯s sword hovers close enough to feel its chill. ¡°Someone survived, but he doesn¡¯t look like an Ando warrior. What should we do?¡± one of the soldiers asks, his tone uncertain. I hold my breath, waiting for the verdict, a dry lump of fear stuck in my throat. The man surveys me, unmoved. ¡°Take him. He looks suspicious regardless. Let His Majesty decide what to do with the others.¡± The warriors turn their attention to a few other survivors, who stand like ghosts, faces pale, eyes hollow with horror. A warrior grabs my arm roughly, and I let my body go limp, feigning weakness as they haul me onto a rickety wooden cart. Terror paralyzes my legs, but I don¡¯t fight them. My clothes are soaked, the sticky scent of cranberry juice clinging to me¡ªa reminder of a world that feels a million miles away. Next to me lies a shrouded body, lifeless and cold. I can¡¯t bear to look, so I turn away, staring instead at the other captives as they¡¯re dragged along. They look like warriors from some history book, but with gear too strange and advanced for anything I¡¯d seen before. And yet, their expressions hold that same mix of fear and defiance, as if this war is as timeless as they are. This can¡¯t be happening. I didn¡¯t get isekai¡¯d into another world like in those anime shows, right? I almost laugh at how absurd that sounds. But one of the warriors on horseback catches my eye, his gleaming, otherworldly armor practically shouting, Welcome to another dimension. I can¡¯t stop the smirk. Have I lost my mind? Did I work myself to death back in my world? No, I definitely went to the mall today. This cranberry juice all over me is proof. But my shoes... and my bag... And the fact that I almost got tossed into a bonfire tells me this is no dream. The cart lurches to a stop, jerking me back to the present. Before us looms a massive gate, flanked by stone pillars carved with symbols that seem to shimmer in the sunlight. I thought we were in some barren wasteland, but now I hear water rushing somewhere close, see trees thick with green leaves, vibrant flowers spilling over the edges of stone walls. As the gate creaked open, an awe-inspiring castle came into view, seamlessly blending Western and Eastern architectural marvels. Stepping inside, I was spellbound by the intricately carved walls, each adorned with shimmering gold that danced in the sunlight. It seems my eyes are deceiving me because it¡¯s gold¡ª A freaking damn gold! The entire place was a mesmerizing showcase of opulence and artistry, making it hard to believe my eyes. I can¡¯t deceive myself anymore. I am really in another world! Chapter 2: In the World of Dominance What if you were suddenly transported to another world? As a creative, I love isekai stories, along with mystery films, documentaries, and comedy-dramas. Watching and reading these stories is my escape from work stress¡ªit reminds me that no matter how grown-up life gets, keeping a bit of childlike joy alive is key to true happiness. Lately, I¡¯ve been obsessed with isekai. I¡¯ve binge-watched and read every title I can find in the genre. Usually, in these tales, people wake up as someone new¡ªlike a princess, a villainess, a baby, or a maid from a powerful family. So why...why am I here as myself, with no money, no family, and worse, as a captive who could die at any second? Whoever created this world should switch places with me and see how they like it! ¡°What an impressive achievement, General Helion. Once again, you¡¯ve proven yourself worthy of your new title.¡± ¡°You praise me too highly, Your Majesty. I¡¯m certain that if His Highness, the Prince, joined us, our forces would reach our goals even faster.¡± The urge to look up is almost unbearable, but fear keeps my gaze glued to the ground. We¡¯ve been ordered to kneel, hands tied behind our backs, and my legs are growing numb from the prolonged position while the nobles shower themselves with praise. Despite the discomfort, a thrill stirs within me at the thought of seeing the king and prince for the first time. Almost everything I read these days is about the northern duke, making the royal family an enemy in my eyes¡ªa stark contrast to the cherished characters in my thousand list. ¡°That can¡¯t be helped. Well, I look forward to seeing what kind of slave you¡¯ve brought this time.¡± ¡°Of course, Your Majesty. Let me present to you a strong, fortunate warrior to serve you.¡± One by one, the warriors display us like trophies, barely glancing at our faces. A quick sweep of the area reveals the hopelessness of our situation: encircled by fully equipped soldiers, each one radiating an intimidating strength. Even the thought of a single flick from one of them makes me shudder. ¡°Like hell, we¡¯ll serve you! Pwe! We are proud warriors of the Aldo Kingdom! We¡¯ll serve no king other than our own!¡± shouts one of the captives beside me, thrashing against his captor¡¯s hold. Woah! This guy has guts. It feels like watching a movie, seeing defiance in the face of power. But¡­ kneeling here with them, it¡¯s less inspiring and more terrifying. ¡°We refuse to bow to an arrogant man like you! We¡¯d rather die than serve you!¡± The captives surge in a brief, futile revolt, only to be subdued and forced back down, some bleeding as their heads are wrenched forward. Admiration for their bravery mixes with my instinct for self-preservation, keeping me silent. If a chance to escape arises, I¡¯ll need my strength. Yet my silence doesn¡¯t go unnoticed; it draws the king¡¯s attention. ¡°I admire their resilience. It¡¯ll be a pleasure to train them. But that one? He looks weak.¡± The words jolt through me, and I don¡¯t have to look up to know he¡¯s talking about me. My body reacts, trembling uncontrollably as dread seizes me. ¡°Show me its face,¡± the king commands. A warrior behind me forced my head up, revealing my face. I saw two thrones on different levels of a stage. An old man, presumably the king, sat at the top with a long sword standing beside him, probably symbolizing the power he holds, while a younger man sat below with a simple throne, looking bored by the proceedings. The younger man''s long black hair complemented his warm-toned skin. His golden eyes, paired with thick brows which the other had a scar, glistened ominously, like a predator eyeing its prey, sending a shiver down my spine. Oh God! He looked like a prince from the underworld. As I tried to avoid their gaze, my eyes caught an even more disturbing scene. Two women, adorned in beautiful clothes, stood beside them, golden chains trailing from their necks to their feet, while half of their faces were covered with thin clothes. My stomach twisted at the sight¡ªthese weren¡¯t just pretty decorations. Their eyes were hollow, dead. What kind of place was this? It sent a cold chill through me. Was that going to be my fate, too? If I couldn¡¯t talk my way out of this, I might not just die¡ªI might be forced to live like that here.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°Hmm¡­ He doesn¡¯t look great either.¡± ¡®What did that old man say?!¡¯ my frantic thought stopped due to the sudden insult. ¡°I don¡¯t need that one. You may kill him,¡± the king commanded, waving his hand dismissively as if ordering my execution. ¡®Ha! This triple M. I might look disheveled now, but I¡¯m confident in my looks. I¡¯m pretty enough to be courted by multiple men!¡¯ (AN: Triple M means Matandang, Mayaman madaling, Mamatay. In English: Stinky rich old man who are bound to die due to their age. ) ¡°Wa¡­wait, wait!¡± I had a lot to say to that old man, but more urgently¡ªif they dragged me out, I was sure I¡¯d be dead. Through the open golden doors, I could practically see a dark aura emanating, like a shadow of my impending fate. ¡°I¡¯m not one of them! I¡¯m not a soldier¡ªor a warrior or anything.¡± My words tumbled out as I struggled against the hands dragging me forward, breath hitching as I continued to ramble. ¡°I was just a normal citizen¡ªno, I was a hostage!¡± I gasped, nearly out of breath, when the prince raised a hand, and the guard halted. ¡°Is it true?¡± His gaze wasn¡¯t even on me but on one of the captive warriors. But before anyone could answer, I blurted out, desperate to stay their hand. ¡°T-They wouldn¡¯t know! I was held captive in secret. I escaped, but I stumbled into the wrong cart¡ªa war cart, full of weapons!¡± What the hell am I saying? But I¡¯ve got their attention, so what can I do to survive? Should I dance? Sing?¡¯ ¡°I...I got caught up in your war by accident.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The prince looked at me, considering the plausibility of my words. ¡°That¡¯s a lie! Our kingdom would never hold a citizen captive!¡± one of the warriors hissed. ''Sorry, but I¡¯m not dying for your kingdom.'' ¡°Do you know who took you?¡± the prince asked, his voice testing me like the edge of a blade. I took a big gulp, preparing to lie through my teeth. ¡°I was held captive by what they called a general." Oh god! I hope their general''s not here, and let him be dead too, please. "And managed to escape, but I had no idea the cart I climbed onto was headed to war. I mean, think about it, what could a small person like me even do there?¡± I finished with a pleading look, hoping it was enough to keep my head on my shoulders. The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You survived among soldiers and warriors. That¡¯s remarkable, considering the nature of our men.¡± My heart dropped. This was a test. One wrong answer and I was finished. ¡°That¡­that¡¯s because I hid among the bodies until I passed out.¡± Technically true. No one stays sane after seeing a head fall right at their feet. ¡°Then why would a general imprison a mere citizen?¡± ¡°Well,¡± ''I don''t know either...'' I wan to slapped my face with the sudden thought. My mind raced, each thought flashing by like a desperate spark in the dark. I was cornered, no choice but to think fast and force another lie through. Come on, think, think, think, I urged myself. What would make a good answer? There was no way those bored faces would care about modern dance or songs. I scanned the room, eyes darting to the stone-carved pillars etched with cryptic symbols, trying to grasp anything that could save me. Symbols, numbers, letters¡­ ¡°I¡­I can read and write different languages?¡± I blurted out, eyes closed, praying this lie would save me. If nothing worked, I was certain I¡¯d die. I felt the air thicken as gasps echoed around me, following what I had impulsively blurted out, and when I dared to open my eyes, I saw that my words had captured everyone¡¯s attention. I clung to the memory of an ancient stone I¡¯d seen earlier, its surface carved with intricate symbols that looked like a hybrid of Egyptian hieroglyphs and some unknown language. They looked like warnings or stories, but they were woven with numbers, letters, and symbols that I¡¯d only seen in documentaries. Did they have meaning to this kingdom? Was it something to fear? The prince¡¯s eyes lingered on me, as if wondering if he¡¯d just stumbled onto something far more valuable than a mere captive. ¡°Prove it.¡± The prince rose from his seat, his dark, flowing hair framing a face that now glistened with interest. Under any other circumstance, his striking appearance might have caught my attention, but right now, he was the greatest danger in the room. Damn it! How am I supposed to prove something I don¡¯t even know myself? My pulse thundered in my ears. Think, or your neck meets the blade! As I glanced down, the guard¡¯s firm grip forced me to bow before the prince, my head throbbing from a rough smack. The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils, and the stinging pain from my head was far from welcome, yet it sparked a desperate idea. Dipping my finger into a puddle of blood on the ground, I hesitated only for a heartbeat before starting to trace a word onto the floor. Scribble: +AnHG!nHanNg# buUh#@yY TtO mMam4+AayY nNa B@ Kk()? Translate: Fuck this life, am I going to die? I exhaled deeply, my heart racing. A desperate, absurd idea took root in my mind, and I couldn¡¯t shake it. I was insane. The last time I¡¯d used Jejemon was back in high school, scribbling notes in what could only be called the world¡¯s ugliest code. But there was no time to second-guess myself. My mind clung to one thought: Jejemon or death. I dipped my fingers into the blood on the ground, the cool slickness grounding me in the chaos. Silently, I prayed that my long-forgotten Jeje days would serve me now. ¡±Your Majesty, I will make use of this man.¡± ¡®¡®What? Did it actually work?!¡¯ My breath caught in my throat as I stared up at the prince, whose lips curved into a menacing smile. Confusion twisted in my gut as I was ordered to be escorted away, but I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes from the prince. His golden gaze pierced through me, like he saw every lie and weakness hidden beneath my shaky fa?ade. I wanted to feel relief¡ªbut all I felt was the deepening realization that I fell into a more dangerous situation. Relief surged through me a moment later. Somehow, my desperate scribbling had succeeded. Gratitude filled my heart for those bygone Jejemon days, and for the first time in a long while, I felt something close to hope. Chapter 3: The Empire and The Prince Following the prince¡¯s orders, someone led me inside and into an empty room, telling me to wait. Finally, I could catch my breath. Soon, a middle-aged woman arrived with a younger woman who looked about my age. They announced they were there to clean me up and make me presentable. Relief flooded me¡ªthis was exactly what I needed. They guided me to the bathroom, setting down a basket overflowing with bottles and towels. I watched them, expecting them to leave, but instead, they walked over to me. "Ah... w-wait. What are you doing?" I stammered, as they stepped closer, clearly intent on undressing me. ¡°Removing your clothes, sire,¡± the older woman replied as if this was the most normal thing in the world. "Sir? No, no, it¡¯s fine¡ªI can handle bathing on my own,¡± I said, trying to force a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. The three of us were now stuck in the world¡¯s most awkward standoff. I waited, hoping they¡¯d take the hint and leave, but when it became clear they weren¡¯t going anywhere, I finally blurted out, ¡°Um, aren¡¯t you going to, you know, head out? I kinda need to take a bath, and it¡¯s a solo activity.¡± ¡°We can''t. We''ve been ordered to assist you.¡± ¡®Oh, I get it. They¡¯re here to watch me in case I try to escape,¡¯ I thought, completely misunderstanding the situation. Feeling a bit shy, I walked inside and stole a glance behind them before hesitantly started on taking off my oversized shirt and unhooked my bra. Gasp! I turned to see their shocked expressions. "Y-you''re a woman?" the older one blurted out, eyes wide, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Uh... does it look like I¡¯m trying to hide it?" I mumbled, pointing awkwardly at my chest. Their expressions changed so fast I almost stumbled backward. It wasn¡¯t just surprise¡ªit was fear. The older woman bolted toward the door, locking it with a candlestick, while the younger one drew the curtains in a frantic sweep, both of their faces are pale as if we were hiding a crime. "What... what are you doing?" My voice wavered, dread gnawing at my insides. This wasn¡¯t just awkward anymore. It feels something dangerous about to happen. ¡°Um, what¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, thoroughly bewildered at their sudden action "Who knows about this?" the older woman demanded, her tone is now deadly serious compared to before. "I don''t know. It''s not like I¡¯m hiding¡ª" I began, but she cut me off, suddenly grabbing both my shoulders, which made me flinch with the unexpected action. "Listen carefully," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You mustn''t let anyone know. Do you understand?" "Uh, yeah, sure, but... why?" I asked, still thoroughly confused. ¡°You really didn¡¯t know?¡± the older woman asked, her voice laced with disbelief. I shook my head. "No, I didn¡¯t." ¡°Where are you from to not know something this basic?¡± she pressed me with more information, sharpening her tone. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder how my bath suddenly turned into an episode of The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. ¡°Not from here,¡± I muttered, too exhausted to explain the whole ¡®other world¡¯ thing. Honestly, who¡¯d believe me? I don''t even know where I am. If this is really another world, it should be something like those I watched and read, the one who enters a story or portal something, but the problem is...I am in my real body. So what kind of story is this? I don''t think I created a story where I am the main lead, I mean come on! Whose insane to do that! Haist...my brain is not functioning today to even remember all those thousand stories I have read. "Definitely not from this world," I muttered, too exhausted to explain further as I stepped into the tub, scrubbing at the sticky blood clinging to my face. I groaned while rinsing the wounds on my head. That guard was utterly heartless! My expensive skincare routine is too precious for my face to just slam against the floor! ¡°If you didn¡¯t know, then you must be from the Homonhon Empire?¡± ''Homonhon? That sounds like Hamon, a sweet small cut of pork that turns into ham...'' I shake my head with the thoughts of food. It''s making me hungry. ¡°Nope. Aunty, sorry, but can I wash myself?¡± I awkwardly requested as they began scrubbing my arms and continue asking me questions that I obviously didn''t have an answer to. ¡°I mean, it feels weird having someone else wash me when I¡¯m already a grown woman.¡± I slid away from them, continuing to scrub my body. ¡°If you¡¯re not from the Homonhon Empire, then there¡¯s no way you wouldn¡¯t know how women are treated here.¡± ¡°Mother, look at her clothes. They¡¯re very dirty but they really look different from what our people wear,¡± the younger girl observed, eyeing my jeans and oversized shirt. I quickly snatched my underwear from her grasp, my face flushing with embarrassment. This is so mortifying! ¡°I heard you were held captive, but which kingdom are you from if not Homonhon?¡± I debated internally before deciding to reveal the truth about my origins and how I got involved in the war between the two kingdoms. In the end, they simply concluded that I¡¯d hurt my brain. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. I don¡¯t expect them to believe me, but being called crazy stung more than I thought it would. Honestly, I question how I¡¯ve managed to stay sane after everything I¡¯ve been through. ¡°It seems you¡¯ve hurt your head pretty badly. You probably don¡¯t even remember your name.¡± The middle-aged woman¡¯s voice was gentle, yet firm, as she brushed the tender wound on my forehead with soft cloth. She looked so convinced of my injury that I didn¡¯t bother correcting her.
¡°Let me introduce myself first. I¡¯m Lea, and this is my daughter, Rowena.¡± We exchanged polite bows, though their cautious gazes lingered. I sensed a quiet, unspoken bond of trust forming. ¡°Come here. Let us help you clean up.¡± Skeptical but with no better options, I followed. ¡°Listen carefully,¡± Lea said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she scrubbed my back. ¡°This Empire is built on dominance and power. The royals rule with cruelty, and those of us lower down live in constant fear. Here, strength is everything. Women are often forced into secondary roles, little more than tools for the powerful to wield.¡± The water trickled down my face, merging with her words. My reflection in the bathwater distorted and rippled, much like this twisted world. ¡°The people here,¡± she continued, her voice now soft but unyielding, ¡° are cold, calculating. They don¡¯t show emotions easily, and love? It¡¯s seen as a weakness compared to our village. Servants like us¡­ we have no choice but to serve. Whether it¡¯s with our skills or our bodies, that all depends on who we end up serving.¡± I stared into the water as droplets sliding down from my hair and blurring my reflection. This was the reality here¡ªthe world I needed to understand if I was going to survive. This is something I have to know. I have to listen to this informaion. ¡°There used to be three empires,¡± Lea went on, her tone are now calm yet heavy. ¡°Only the Homonhon and Elthor Empires treated women differently. We¡¯re from Ellis, a fallen kingdom of the Elthor Empire. But fate brought us here, to serve under this lord. We had dreams of escape once, but with the fall of Aldo¡ªa kingdom known for its military strength today, those hopes were shattered. It''s because our princess is¡­¡± Her voice faltered. ¡°Mother¡­¡± Rowena interrupted gently, her hand on Lea¡¯s arm. Lea¡¯s mouth closed, but her gaze was grim. ¡°The only empire left now is Homonhon. This kingdom, Marceau, used to be small and unremarkable, but look at what it¡¯s become.¡± Lea¡¯s voice grew heavy, like lead. ¡°There are quite few women here, and every one of them has one role: to serve their master. Do you understand now why we¡¯re so worried for you?¡± A chill ran down my spine, and I nodded slowly. Hesitating, I spoke up, wary of the answer. ¡°Then¡­ does that mean you two¡­¡± Lea cut me off with a firm shake of her head, though her expression was full of pain. ¡°I made both of us barren.¡± ''What''s barren for women again? I think I know that...ah!'' A heavy silence fell in the room the moment I thought what it means, thick and unbreakable, until Lea finally spoke again. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re allowed to serve in the palace,¡± she said with a steady voice but much darker now. ¡°No one can touch a woman owned by the emperor, not unless he allows it.¡± I saw then how the weight of her words carved into her face, lines of weariness etched deep. ¡°And the emperor doesn''t like a woman with a scar. I made sure neither of us would ever be touched, so I chose to give us both a scar.¡± My throat tightened, a horrified question on my lips. ¡°You¡­ chose that?¡± She nodded slowly, her eyes clouded with grief. ¡°It was the only way to protect her. To protect us.¡± A shiver crept over me. Would I need the same kind of protection? But I take extra care of my skin, even buy those expensive skin care that my idols used... ¡°What about the women I saw earlier?¡± I asked, remembering the chains on their wrists. ¡°Are they slaves?¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t slaves. They¡¯re princesses from a kingdom that the emperor took a liking to,¡± Rowena said softly. I felt sick. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ twisted.¡± A dark thought clawed its way to the surface. What if they find out I¡¯m a woman? ¡°Aunty, what should I do?¡± My voice sounded small, like a child¡¯s. I asked if she had any medicine to make me barren, even though dread pooled in my stomach at the thought. She only shook her head sadly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. As long as they believe you¡¯re a man, you¡¯ll be safe,¡± Lea said, her eyes flickering with doubt. ¡°They sent men¡¯s clothes. They must already believe it. Just¡­ play the role.¡± My stomach twisted. Play the role? Easier said than done. ¡°But¡­¡± Her gaze drifted to my chest, a warning in her silence. ¡°I can hide that,¡± I whispered, more to myself than to her. ¡°If I bind it tight, no one will notice. Some of my friends use binders to flatten theirs. If I had something long enough¡­¡± ¡°Like this?¡± Rowena held up a strip of fabric, thin but sturdy. ¡°Perfect!¡± I said, feeling a strange burst of relief. I held the cloth, staring at it. Wait..why am I happy for a piece of cloth? Disguising myself was going to be a challenge. Flattening my chest is one thing, but my small build and voice will give me away eventually¡ªor so I thought. After Lea and Rowena helped me dress and taught me things I have to remember, we exchanged quiet goodbyes. I had no idea if I¡¯d see them again, but they said I would be heading to the prince''s palace, where women are rarely seen, so I guess I cannot see them again. My life was a mess. I¡¯d just wanted to buy shoes, but now I was in a life-or-death situation, forced to disguise myself as a man and prepare to meet a prince who terrified me. What does he need from me anyway? ¡°Please come inside,¡± a person who looked like a butler said, gesturing to a door that loomed with an ominous aura. ¡®My instinct is screaming at me to avoid this door but¡­¡¯ I took a deep breath and finally entered. Inside, the prince was sitting at his desk, discussing something with two officials. One of the attendants guided me to another room where I anxiously sat on one of the sofas. The room was luxurious, filled with crafted ornaments, but I didn¡¯t have the guts to admire it. I was so nervous that it felt like my first CEO interview, except this time, my life was on the line. My hands clutched my double-layered clothes, my chest feeling both stifling and oddly secure. For someone who hates bras, this is so uncomfortable. I automatically stood up when the prince entered the room, like a soldier meeting his superior. I couldn¡¯t believe I was in this situation. ¡°I believe I don¡¯t have to explain why you¡¯re here,¡± the prince said upon entering and sitting in front of me. I remained silent because I had no idea why. ¡®You better explain, I''m not a mind reader.¡¯ The prince waved his hand, signaling one of his attendants, who moved towards me and placed a decorative container in front of me. He then opened it to reveal what looked like an ancient scroll made of fabric cloth with a soft yet dry texture¡ªsomething you¡¯d expect to see in a museum. I blankly stared at the contents of the scroll, its mysterious symbols gazing back at me as the attendant carefully opened it and then left the room. What¡¯s this? A code? Sudoku? ?? ???? ?#1??? ?#? ???535 7#3 ?34?1?6 ?= ??1=3. ?4?¡¯7 347, ?4?¡¯7 5??33?, 45 1= ???53? 1? 7#3 ?457 ??1=3. ?17# 7#3 ???3? ?= 7#3 ?16#7?? ??3, ?3 ????|< =?? 7#3 ??3 5? 4 ?33? 5??33? ?4? ??3????3. Panic seized me as I stared at the scroll¡ªa chaotic mix of letters, symbols, and numbers. It was a cryptic puzzle, a blend of ancient and modern scripts that seemed impossible to unravel.
¡®This is why they say it¡¯s not good to lie about your skills¡­¡¯ ¡°Ha¡­Ha, this looks very... interesting,¡± I stammered, cold sweat trickling down my spine. ¡°What will happen to me if I can¡¯t decode this... your highness?¡± I asked, my voice barely a whisper. ¡°Death,¡± the prince replied, his smile cruel and devoid of warmth. The single word hung in the air, sharp as a blade, sending shivers down my spine. I internally cried out in despair. It¡¯s no use¡ªI¡¯ll die here¡­No!! Let¡¯s at least try to understand this. You can do it, girl! Think of it as a puzzle. Grabbing a quill and paper, I began scribbling anything that made sense, but nothing make any sense at all. What should I do? The prince¡¯s piercing gaze bore into me, a silent, oppressive force that amplified the pressure tenfold. Desperation clawed at me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but could you leave?¡± I blurted out, instantly regretting the informal tone. His eyes narrowed dangerously. ¡°I mean, would you kindly give me some space to think, Your Highness? I can¡¯t focus with you watching me so intently.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Just a few minutes, please. If I haven¡¯t made any progress by then, you can do as you wish with me.¡± I gripped the pen tightly, my breath hitching as I awaited his response. ¡°Very well,¡± he said, his voice dripping with cold authority. I exhaled in relief, but before leaving, he placed an hourglass on the table, the sand already beginning to fall. ¡°I expect good results,¡± he warned, before turning and exiting the room. My heart raced as the sand slipped away. Panic clawed at me, but I forced myself to breathe, gripping the quill like a lifeline. The scroll blurred as I tried to focus, my hands shaking with every stroke of ink. Every passing second felt like a death sentence. Then, a glimmer¡ªsomething that stood out amid the chaos of symbols and numbers. A word. "Life." I blinked. Could that be right? My pulse quickened. Maybe I could do this. I scribbled faster, my hand cramping as more pieces fell into place, hope burning like a small flame in the dark. But just as I was starting to see a pattern, footsteps started entering again. The prince returned with a cold gaze like ice water. "Time¡¯s up." My heart sank. I had failed. The final grains of sand fell, sealing my fate. And that¡¯s the moment I knew¡ªI fucked up. I failed to decode the scroll. Chapter 4: The Historian and Me As I sat there, with my hands trembling, the prince silently scanned the few translated words I¡¯d managed to piece together. The room was so quiet, I could hear the sand slipping through the hourglass, each grain marking a second that stretched into eternity. My pulse thundered in my ears, a frantic rhythm against the oppressive silence. The prince¡¯s gaze was unrelenting, his expression unreadable as he dissected every detail. The silence grew thicker, like a weight pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± he finally muttered, a soft, contemplative noise that seemed almost deafening in the stillness, amplifying the tension inside the room. ¡®Great,¡¯ I thought, stealing a nervous glance at the intimidating figure beside him. ¡®He¡¯s probably brought that warrior to finish me off. No use fretting now¡ªI did what I could. Decoding those ancient symbols felt like trying to untangle a mess of angry snakes.¡¯ If I must die, at least let it be after I¡¯ve had a chance to wear my new shoes¡­and don''t make it painful as well. I silently cried. ¡°Life, Deep Sleep, and Overcome. Is this everything?¡± the prince¡¯s voice cut through my thoughts with a sharp and demanding tone. ¡°Uh, I apologize, sir¡ª I mean, your highness. I had...limited time,¡± I replied, hoping my voice didn¡¯t betray the fear creeping up my spine. ¡°How long would it take you to decode all the symbols?¡± he asked, cutting straight to the point. ¡°Well, it actually depends on¡ª¡± I began, but he wasn¡¯t interested in the details or elaborated explanation. ¡°I need an exact answer.¡± The sudden clink of his sword against the chair made me jump. ¡°A week?¡± I blurted out in a panic. His brow shot up, eyes flashing dangerously. "A week? That fast?" ¡®Wait, that¡¯s fast?! I almost said two or three days. Can I stretch this out?¡¯ ¡°Sorry, I misspoke¡ªa year,¡± I quickly amended, praying he¡¯d buy it. ¡°A year, hm? Perfect¡­ for your head to be displayed at the gate.¡± He unsheathed his sword, laying it on the table with a metallic clink that chilled me to the core. ¡®Asshole.¡¯ ¡°I can sacrifice my sleep and decode the scripture in a month, Your Highness!¡± I stammered, my corporate survival instincts kicking in, and I can''t help it ¡°I promise!¡± The prince chuckled, low and chilling. ¡°Now we¡¯re talking. My historians have spent months on mere fragments, but you¡¯ve done more in a matter of hour. Impressive.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ thank you?¡± I squeaked, trying to grasp what he¡¯d just implied. ¡°Ethan, guide this little lark to the historians. They¡¯ll be thrilled to have another head.¡± The prince waved me off like a bored tyrant, dismissing me as if I were nothing more than an amusing diversion. As Ethan led me out, I showered the prince with hollow thanks, all the while feeling dread coil tighter in my stomach. As soon as the door closed behind me, reality hit like a wave, and I nearly collapsed, sliding to the cold floor, overwhelmed by rage and desperation. ¡®That prince just made a fool of me, didn¡¯t he?¡¯ My fists clenched, and for a wild second, I imagined storming back in there and wiping that smug smirk off his face. But reality bit hard¡ªI know for a fact that a single act of rebellion here wouldn¡¯t end with anything but my head rolling. I silently taking my time to calm and contain the rage inside me, leaving only a bitter taste, and I clenched my teeth, feeling the weight of my own stupidity. ¡®What kind of mess have I gotten myself into? I should have said a month or two!¡¯ I want to slap myself. I¡¯m such an idiot! I got so scared with those blades that I can''t think straight. ¡°Are you alright, sire?¡± Ethan¡¯s voice pulled me back, and I looked up at his concerned face.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®Do I look alright? I¡¯m stuck here, with my brand-new shoes lost, my belongings gone, and now I¡¯m pretending to be some servant-scholar in a world I don¡¯t even know where!¡¯ I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to breathe as I wrestled down the frustration boiling up inside me that I barely contained. That prince started this, and I¡¯d see to it that he¡¯d regret it in time. If this world wants to play a game with me, bring it on! I¡¯m not the type to back down without a fight. With a shaky breath, I lifted my head and met Ethan¡¯s gaze. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I fibbed through clenched teeth, tasting the sharp bitterness of my own words. Just wait¡ªI¡¯ll find a way out of this and make you cry a river! Inside the historians¡¯ office, Ethan guided me in, and I was immediately greeted by the most cheerful man. ¡°So, you¡¯re the one? We¡¯ve heard you can read and write ancient scripts. That¡¯s extraordinary!¡± ''Wow, news travels fast!'' I marveled as I was greeted enthusiastically by a man who introduced himself as Leon, shortly after Ethan left me this pretty man. As I stepped further inside, something unusual caught my attention: all the men in the room were of slight build, much like my own. No wonder they weren''t suspicious of me. Effeminacy was common here, I realized with relief. But...aren''t they too pretty than me, and these are men? I silently cried as bitterness with the unfair genes crept inside my head. ¡°Ah, no, not quite. I can only read and write a few languages, but not those ancient characters¡­¡± I quickly corrected him, trying to avoid confusion. Leon only smile that didn¡¯t quite match the cold precision I expected from someone who¡¯d been decoding texts for years. He was striking, sure, with those emerald green bright eyes and pink hair that caught the light¡ªbut it was his calm confidence that unnerved me more than anything else. I had the feeling this was a guy who rarely missed a detail. I was staring at eight historian men before me, fresh from my unsettling encounter with the prince. However, only a few of them truly stood out to me, thanks to their striking looks¡ªthe rest were, well, just normal. Thank god! Like a schoolgirl on her first day at a new school, I instinctively scanned the room for any dashing men, completely forgetting that I¡¯d narrowly escaped disaster in the prince¡¯s office earlier. ¡°Still, I believe you¡¯ll be a great asset to us. I heard you decoded words from a scroll in mere hours. That¡¯s remarkable!¡± If only you knew the pressure I was under. My thoughts flashed back to the prince¡¯s sword, gleaming far too close. I almost wanted to strangle the man for bringing it all up again. But I only smiled back as he started to lead me the way. All I wanted was a moment to rest, but Leon was so enthusiastic I didn¡¯t even have a chance to sit. It feels like just hours ago, I¡¯d been in the throes of war, and now I was meeting historians who were apparently thrilled to have me. I tried to remember their names, but they flew right past me. I¡¯m terrible at names anyway. And then Leon introduced me to Rowell, even more timid than I was. With violet eyes and hair, he looked like a prince from a fairytale¡ªalmost too otherworldly for this grim reality. Then there was Marco, dark and sharp-eyed, not the sort of man who¡¯d lose sleep over a duel. Out of the eight historians, these three stood out. Whether that was a good thing or not, I hadn¡¯t decided¡ªespecially with the memory of the prince¡¯s gleaming sword still fresh in my mind. Sometimes looks can be deceiving. Just when I thought I could rest, the door opened again, and a group of warriors entered, led by a man who immediately commanded attention. His ash-blue hair was neatly combed, contrasting with his light eyes, which held a stern, icy gaze. His features were sharp, and the glasses perched on his nose only added to his no-nonsense air. With two warriors flanking him, it was clear he was someone who demanded respect without uttering a word. All the historians lined up and bowed their heads, and I quickly followed suit, still haunted by the prince¡¯s unsettling smile, it was not charming at all! The announcement of an expedition to retrieve an ancient text rolled off his tongue with the precision of someone who left no room for questions or doubts. ¡°Since we have acquired new talent capable of reading ancient texts more quickly, His Highness the Crown Prince wishes to seize this opportunity to retrieve the last ancient script. He expects the selected historians to decode the Arcanographica at a significantly faster rate. In return, he will assign a warrior to each historian for training and protection during the upcoming war.¡± Is the prince obsessed with war or something? I thought bitterly. I just got off the battlefield, and now he¡¯s all, ¡®Let¡¯s do another war, guys!¡¯ I¡¯m not your go-to warrior right now¡ªI need a massage or spa, not another round of war! "The historians chosen are... the little lark?" ¡°¡­¡± I met the assistant¡¯s eyes as he puzzled over the paper. ¡°It seems this refers to you, new guy.¡± That bastard. I felt my stomach drop. He picked me of all people. And what¡¯s with that creepy nickname? ¡°State your name, young man.¡± "Uh, fuck." I was too flustered to respond right away. What is wrong with that prince? Is he really the lord of the underworld? Realizing everyone was staring at me, I quickly snapped out of it. ¡°What?¡± I asked, realizing the assistant was still waiting. "Uh...Tuck. You can call me Tuck," I said, forcing a smile that definitely didn''t make me look happy at all. "Alright, Tuk it is." I blinked. "No, no, it''s Tuck¡ªT-U-C-K." I tried again, as if the universe had somehow skipped over that important detail. ¡°Right, Tuk it is.¡± What the¡ªwhat is wrong with this guy''s tongue? Am I being tricked right now? Fine. Whatever. It¡¯s not like Tuck is even my real name, anyway. ¡°Along with Tuk, Leon, Rowell, and Marco will have assigned warriors and will accompany His Highness to retrieve the secret scroll. Be grateful for this honor and opportunity bestowed upon you by His Highness." ¡®Grateful, my ass. Just let me rest!¡¯ When the assistant closed the paper, I hesitantly raised my hand. ¡°Sorry, but¡­ why do we have to join the war? Couldn¡¯t we follow up when things are safer?¡± ¡°Are you questioning His Highness¡¯s decision, historian?¡± The assistant¡¯s tone cut through the air, sharp with irritation and authority. ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I mean¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll let this slide since it¡¯s your first day, and His Highness seems to take a liking to you. But understand this¡ªsuch impertinent questions are not tolerated in this Empire. I hope you understand, Historian Tuk.¡± I clasped my hands, gritting my teeth. I barely survived today, so I had to be patient and just go with it. So basically, we don¡¯t have a choice but to do whatever that prince commands?! "Apologies, I¡¯ll make sure to keep that in mind," I muttered. "Good. Historian Eleonor, I¡¯ll leave the task of educating our new historian on the nature of your work to you." "It will be an honor, my lord," Leon responded, as composed as ever, like a true noble. As the assistant droned on about the prince''s expectations and updates for Sire Leon, I ignored their conversation that I couldn''t really understand and found myself tuning out around me. The room was filled with papers, scrolls, and books, resembling a chaotic library. It was the kind of room that screamed "genius"¡ªthe type of place I usually avoided at all costs. Why? Because genius types always have endless questions buzzing around in their heads, and they''ll sacrifice sleep to chase down every last answer. That¡¯s the complete opposite of me¡ªI¡¯d rather catch up on sleep than anything else. Being surrounded by all these bright people made me feel like I¡¯d wandered into the wrong place. All I could think about now was how much I¡¯d rather be curled up in bed with a snack in my hand while watching movies than stuck in a room that smells like books and papers. I can''t help but to wonder if I will be able to maintain this lie and access the Arcanographica that even this so called historian can''t do, or will my deception lead to my downfall? Chapter 5: The Scroll of Secrets called Arcanographica ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± I asked Leon, irritation seeping into my voice as the delegation left and we continued the office tour. With a mischievous grin, Leon leaned in and whispered, ¡°That¡¯s the Prince¡¯s assistant¡ªaka, the royal pain in the ass.¡± Despite my frustration, a wry smile tugged at my lips. I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle, ¡°Leon really does have that everyone¡¯s-best-friend charm,¡± I muttered, shaking my head as we continued the tour of the historical office. Maybe this won¡¯t be so terrible after all. Who wouldn¡¯t enjoy a room filled with smart, beautiful people? ¡°He¡¯s the second son of the Marquess, Lord Nixon. He holds His Highness in high regard and has become his secretary, which is why he¡¯s so strict with His Highness¡¯s people. You should be careful with your words around other officials, too. By the way, where are you from? You seem a bit out of place with noble etiquette,¡± he continued. ¡°I¡­ am not a noble. I¡¯m just an ordinary citizen from a small city in Elthor,¡± I said smoothly, borrowing from what Aunty Lea had said earlier. ¡°Oh, that explains it. No wonder you¡¯re unfamiliar with the customs. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll guide you as best I can. Feel free to ask if you have any questions. I initially assumed you were from a noble family since you know various languages and managed to decode some symbols from the scrolls. My apologies for the assumption.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t mind at all. Thank you for accepting me, even though I¡¯m a nobody,¡± I said bashfully, earning a warm smile from him as we bow to each other. ¡°His Highness appointed you. Who am I to question his orders? But if you¡¯re not a noble, how did you learn to read, write, and decode?¡± Leon¡¯s voice took on a suspicious edge as we stepped into a new, mysterious room. ¡°Oh wow! What is this room?¡± I exclaimed, my voice trembling slightly as I desperately tried to redirect the conversation. ¡°Ah, this is where we decode the Arcanographica,¡± he replied, his eyes narrowing as if trying to see through my facade, making my heart race even faster. My heart pounded as I glanced at the display in the corner of the room and cautiously peered inside the glass case, hoping to avoid any suspicion. A line of scrolls, eerily similar to the one I had read earlier, lay within, beckoning me to explore further. I wasn''t about to let Leon see me sweat. ¡°I¡¯ve been curious about this Arcanographica since earlier. What are these scrolls for?¡± I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. My eyes nervously darted around the room, drawn to the scattered scrolls, each one holding some kind of mystery. ¡°Did you decode the secret scroll without knowing what it was? That¡¯s unusual. Doesn¡¯t His Highness tell you anything about it?¡± I shook my head. Just as I suspected. What I did isn¡¯t normal at all! Am I some kind of prodigy? No, that can¡¯t be right. I barely managed to understand those characters because I used to communicate with my friends using Jejemon text. A shiver of unease crept down my spine. I could feel Leon¡¯s gaze on me, sharp as a dagger. My palms started to sweat. What if he realizes I¡¯m bluffing? I needed to change the subject now. ¡°S...So, what¡¯s this for?¡± I asked, struggling to keep my composure. The room seemed to darken, and the shadows seemed to stretch a little too far. Leon¡¯s gaze grew more intense, like he was piecing together a puzzle. It felt like the walls were closing in. ¡®Please don¡¯t ask me any more questions,¡¯ I silently prayed, feeling a wave of relief as Leon began to speak. ¡°Hmm, where to start? We believe the Arcanographica contains the history of our world. As you know, our ancestors believed that the mighty dragon created this world for his companion.¡± ¡®The hell...a dragon? Really?! Am I in dragon ball or Jurassic World?¡¯ I silently grumbled, trying not to roll my eyes. What¡¯s next, a talking frog? This was starting to feel like one of those bad fanfic. ¡°His Highness first learned about the Arcanographica when a princess from a neighboring kingdom offered it to him in exchange for her country. According to legend, the scroll had been safeguarded by her family for generations and was believed to hold the mystical power of the dragon.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°And does His Highness actually believe that?¡± "At first, His Highness didn¡¯t believe it¡ªuntil he felt the power residing in the scroll.¡± Leon¡¯s voice dropped lower, his eyes darting around the room like he was about to spill some dangerous secret. Seriously?! I can''t believe what I just struggle to read at the cause of my life is some kind of tale for kids. ¡°These scrolls¡­ there¡¯s something more to them. They preserve their content, yes, but there¡¯s also a weight to them. Like they¡¯re watching you, waiting for something. Only the mighty dragon or the prince himself can hold such power, or so they say. But there are stories¡ªwhispers, really¡ªabout others who¡¯ve tried and¡­ let¡¯s just say, they weren¡¯t so lucky.¡± ¡®I didn¡¯t feel anything at all, so I¡¯m not as special as I thought.¡¯ I muttered, feeling disappointed, still hoping I could be important in this new world since I was magically appearing here. I mean that''s usually the plot in some novel I read. ¡°Did a dragon write these scrolls?¡± I asked, trying to suppress a smile. Leon chuckled and moved to one of the scrolls on his left. ¡°No. After many years of study, we learned that the scrolls were written by someone who accompanied the mighty dragon.¡± ¡°So it was the dragon¡¯s companion,¡± I replied, trying to keep a straight face. It felt like I was talking to my niece, convincing her that the dragon was the father of the dinosaur and the lizard is the youngest child. ¡°That¡¯s what we thought too, but upon further examination, it seems the scrolls were written by someone else entirely. Someone entrusted with the dragon¡¯s power, a power His Highness is still seeking.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s like a tiny cog finding its place¡ªthe world seems to shift from the day His Highness learned the scrolls'' contents.¡± ¡°W¡­ what¡¯s in it?¡± I asked eagerly, hoping for more of the story. It sounded like a fantasy movie plot, so why not give it a chance? ¡°It¡¯s the scroll you decoded yourself.¡± Leon smiled as I stared blankly at her. I had already forgotten what I had read, preoccupied with just trying to survive. The only word I remembered was life, and the rest just flew out somewhere. ¡°And the first scroll I¡¯ve decoded in years.¡± He added, looking at the scroll in front of him inside the glass case. ¡°So what does it say?¡± I asked impatiently. He remained silent, gazing at the scroll like he was in a trance. And then he starts to read, "Poor child who loses the meaning of life. Can¡¯t eat, can¡¯t sleep, as if cursed in the past life. With the power of the mighty one, we look for the one so a deep sleep can overcome." ¡°It sounds lonely, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Leon added after reciting the words like some kind of dramatic poet. I didn¡¯t know what to say. Everything I was hearing felt like a scam. The content was indeed lonely, almost as if it was describing what I was feeling right now. I hadn¡¯t eaten or slept since I arrived. Everything had happened so fast that I still wanted to believe this was just a nightmare. All I wanted was to buy my shoes and eat something... Grrowl~ my stomach growled. ¡®Talking about food just made me even hungrier.¡¯ ¡°Hahaha, my bad. It seems your stomach is in a more miserable state. Want to eat first before we continue?¡± ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve been through a lot today and didn¡¯t get a chance to eat.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. Let me show you to the dining area.¡± Leon was incredibly helpful today, but I swear, my brain¡¯s starting to feel like an overstuffed suitcase. He¡¯s been tossing information at me here and there like some kind of confetti at a parade, and I¡¯m over here trying to catch it with a tiny cocktail umbrella. Seriously, I need a pause button. This is too much information for my brain. ?? ¡°Here¡¯s your room,¡± Leon announced, leading me to a tiny stone chamber that looked like it was plucked straight out of a dungeon. No windows, just stone walls, a modest bed, and a side table. On the bright side, there was a private bathroom, which was a huge relief. Bathing alone was my biggest concern. Despite their ancient warrior vibes, their hygiene seemed to be on par with modern standards. Thank Goodness! And their clothing? Don¡¯t get me started. Buttons made of gold and cufflinks set with gems! How much could those clothes fetch? Especially the prince¡¯s outfit! If I can get one of his clothes, I think my retirement funds are already secure. Leon did mention earlier that the entire floor we walked through was exclusively for historians. "His Highness, the crown prince, is incredibly invested in our skills since he¡¯s obsessed with the ancient scripts that are supposedly imbued with secret powers only a true king can wield." ¡°Really? It feels more like we¡¯re in a high-end prison with no way out. Seriously, who¡¯s going to buy into that dragon nonsense? I¡¯d be more convinced if they said it was a violet-talking dinosaur.¡± I grumbled to myself as I flopped into the chair after Leon finally left me alone. Great! Not only am I stuck in a land of dragons and cryptic scrolls, but I¡¯m also the world¡¯s most clueless historian. Just what I needed¡ªanother reason to feel like a fraud. But in all seriousness, that Arcanographica Scroll is like deciphering Jejemon texts¡ªsymbols that look totally random but start making sense the more you stare at them. Only, instead of laughing with my friends over messages, I¡¯m now somehow unraveling ancient dragon magic. Well, it¡¯s not exactly the same writing, but it¡¯s similar in a way. How can I explain it? Hmm... First, the ''A'' in Jeje can be represented as either 5, @, or a¡ªeach has a different character but the same meaning. The trick to reading them is familiarizing yourself with the words and then the characters; it¡¯s more about how they visually appear. It¡¯s a little complicated for those who don¡¯t know since it¡¯s an entirely different system, but having knowledge of it really helps me understand a few words of the Arcanographica. It¡¯s really fun solving this kind of mystery, but... ¡°I want to go home!!!!¡± I yelled in frustration. I was exhausted, achy, and this room was freezing. It felt colder than a penguin¡¯s igloo even without the fan or air conditioning. I took a quick bath in the icy water and shivered as I dried off and wrapped myself in a towel. The room was freezing. Maybe it¡¯s the stone walls? What a day! I barely left my house, just wanted to buy new shoes, and now my shoes are gone without me ever wearing them. I better ask for a refund! My bag, wallet, and phone? Probably turned to ash. I¡¯ve ended up in the middle of a war, witnessed a gruesome scene, and almost got burned alive, and now I¡¯m pretending to be a man and suddenly becoming a historian. Crazy day indeed! Somehow, I ended up as a historian. Me? The person who couldn¡¯t stand math or history? How ridiculous is that! Well, at least I¡¯m still alive¡­ for now. I can¡¯t help but wonder what other crazy twists are waiting for me. As I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts were a chaotic mess. Maybe this is all a bad dream, I told myself, clinging to the hope of waking up in my own bed. But the rest didn¡¯t last long. I barely had time to close my eyes when a loud knock sounded on my door. ¡°You¡¯re expected on the training field,¡± a gruff voice called. ¡°Wha¡ªnow?¡± I groaned, still half-asleep, but the door was already swinging open. They didn¡¯t give me a choice. Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of a field, desperately trying to wield a sword that felt like it weighed a ton. ¡°I know I said I¡¯m not one to back down from a fight, but this is not what I meant!!!¡± I screamed as I clumsily swung a heavy sword, feeling more like a ragdoll than a warrior. Chapter 6: The Empire Ruled by Men It¡¯s been a few weeks since I ended up in this bizarre world, and I¡¯m still clueless about how or why I¡¯m here. Did I just get kicked the bucket for working too hard and have the audacity to thrive a little too much lately? So, doing well comes with divine consequences now? Ha..! I don''t know anymore. Understanding this place feels like trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. But I¡¯ve managed to pick up a few things along the way. First, this empire was ruled predominantly by men, and to my luck, they were in the middle of world domination. Women hold no leadership roles, and the king seems like useless figurehead trash while the prince is a royal pain in my ass. There¡¯s no flashy magic¡ªno fire-breathing dragons or water-wielding witches like what I expect in a fantasy world. They rely on brute force and an obsession with leftover dragon power, especially the prince, who seems fixated on it. I mean, I can probably understand him if that power can help me levitate! The natural world is just as strange. There¡¯s a waterfall in the middle of a desert, of all places. From the historian¡¯s office window, I can see just how this place defies reason. And then there are the Arcanographica scrolls, which look like an ancient, fancy version of Jejemon text, full of swirls and twists. The historians have decoded three scrolls so far, with six more in progress. They said there are eleven scrolls in total¡ªeight are here, while the last three are in the Homonhon Empire. After Aldo Kingdom fell, only two remain unclaimed. Marquess Nixon mentioned ¡°the last piece,¡± and I can¡¯t help but wonder how many wars they¡¯ve waged to complete this set. Do they think this is some sort of collectible?! ¡°This is amazing, Tuk!¡± Leon exclaimed, his eyes wide as he looked over my progress. Apparently, my name became as plain as me. ¡°It¡¯s incredible how you managed to decode these in just three weeks! How did you do it?¡± Marco asked, appearing out of nowhere as other historians gathered around, their eyes bright with excitement. ¡°Well¡­ your notes really helped me get a feel for the scrolls. But it¡¯s not like I cracked the whole thing¡ªjust figured out a few words here and there,¡± I replied, downplaying my work. ¡°Maybe growing up as a peasant gave me a knack for understanding words they don¡¯t use much in this kingdom¡ªuh, empire.¡± Leon smiled and patted my head as I quickly corrected myself. I was still trying to wrap my head around their system, but I was grateful for Leon, Rowell, and Marco¡¯s support. Not everyone was so friendly, though; Albert, Easton, and a few others kept their distance, but I didn¡¯t really care. Their not good-looking anyway. I knew my situation was shaky, and the only person I could really trust was myself. Just last night, I¡¯d had a close call. I was wrapping my chest tighter than usual to keep my secret when Leon almost barged in. I barely managed to throw on a shirt before he entered, asking me about a translation. His eyes lingered a bit too long on my hurriedly fastened buttons. ¡°You okay, Tuk?¡± he¡¯d asked, his brow furrowing. ¡°Yeah, just¡­ sore from all the running,¡± I replied quickly, hoping he hadn¡¯t noticed anything. I can¡¯t afford mistakes. ¡°Honesty is the best policy,¡± they say, but if I applied that here, I¡¯d surely lose everyone¡¯s support. If they ever found out I was a woman, the friendliness would vanish. My goal is to learn as much as possible, maybe even find clues to get back home, while hiding my true skills and offering just enough translations to maintain my cover. ¡°Still, having you on the team has definitely sped up our progress,¡± Rowell said with a shy smile, dropping a stack of books on Leon¡¯s table. ¡°Uh¡­ what¡¯s all this?¡± Leon asked nervously, eyeing the mountain of books. ¡°It¡¯s all the notes and progress we¡¯ve made on confirming the scrolls¡¯ content,¡± Rowell explained. ¡°Oh, I actually asked Sire Rowell and Sire Marco for a shared study. I thought I¡¯d need their guidance since I¡¯m new to this historian role,¡± I added, thinking it¡¯d keep suspicion at bay. ¡°That¡¯s a great idea! We should celebrate each breakthrough. How about I join you too? I¡¯ll treat everyone to dinner tonight!¡± Leon offered cheerfully, but Marco quickly shot him down. ¡°No thanks, I prefer to study alone. I can¡¯t stand your loud personality.¡± Marco declined without a hint of regret. ¡°You¡¯re as rude as ever. So, the three of us should be fine, right?¡± Leon asked hopefully. ¡°Sorry, Leon. I wanted some alone time too. But thanks for the offer!¡± Rowell said, bowing multiple times before following Marco out. ¡°T¡­ then Tuk?¡± Leon¡¯s hopeful eyes landed on me. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Sorry, I wanted to practice transcription alone, but I¡¯ll definitely join you for the free meal.¡± Leon¡¯s heart seemed to break a little, but he hid it behind a brave smile. That night, he drowned his sorrows, telling me his troubles while I listened, enjoying the free meal and keeping my own plans safely hidden. The next morning hit like a brick to the face. "TWO MORE LAPS!" One, two¡­ One, two¡­One, two¡­ What am I doing up at this ungodly hour? I ask to myself while running still half-asleep. A few hours earlier, I was blissfully drooling on my pillow, dreaming of uninterrupted sleep when the world was shattered by a crash. Apparently, His Highness wants even historians to be battle-ready. One of the warriors auditioned for "Breaking Down Doors 101" instead of just knocking. Still half-asleep, I was yanked from bed and thrown into a lap-running frenzy. Apparently, we¡¯re expected to survive the battlefield alongside decoding ancient texts. "This feels more like a death sentence than a workout," I mumble, my head spinning. At least I had the presence of mind to secure my chest the night before¡ªit¡¯s the only shred of dignity I have left. So this is what they meant by assigning us a warrior. They¡¯re not here to protect us¡ªthey¡¯re here to turn us into muscle-bound freaks. During my near-death experience, my ¡°demon coach¡± roared for another lap. My vision blurred. Marco had already collapsed after six laps, and Leon looked ready for a zombie movie. Rowell had lost his soul somewhere back in the first mile. ¡°Ha¡­ tell me, Sir Leon¡­ why the hell are we doing this so early?¡± I gasped, collapsing in the dirt, sweat pouring off me. After a quick break under the gaze of disappointed warrior coaches, I felt like a corpse. My head spun from last night¡¯s hangover. ¡°His Highness¡¯s order¡­ we need¡­ to train¡­ for the war¡­¡± Leon replied, gasping. ¡°Then why not just have them protect us? Do we really need to train like this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s His Highness¡¯s will¡­ we must abide¡­¡±
¡°Why? Why do we have to follow every crazy whim of that prince?¡± I demanded, almost wanting to cry in my frustration. ¡°Hey! Watch what you say,¡± Leon warned, glancing around nervously. I slumped to the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t even care anymore. Just let me die here.¡± As the sun rose, I wondered if this was some cosmic punishment for my lazy habits. "Still, for someone who can decipher ancient texts as quickly as you, you¡¯re a huge help," Marco, who had somehow regained his breath, chimed in. ¡®Seriously? Is this world playing a prank on me? Am I getting thanked just for being a Jeje?¡¯ I scoffed internally at the universe, which seemed to take great delight in toying with me. Surviving each day felt like an epic battle¡ªmostly against my own laziness. The torture changed daily, but it was always brutal. The first week was all about endurance: mile after mile, with the distance getting longer every day. I swear, by the end, I could practically see the finish line mocking me, like it was running away from me. The second week? Pure agony. Endless planks, holding the position for what felt like hours¡ªthough it was probably just a few minutes each time. Thirty to sixty seconds, but still, I could feel my soul leaving my body. By the third week, they handed us wooden swords and made us swing until our arms were nothing but jelly. By the time I made it back to the historian¡¯s office, I could barely lift a pen. My arms were shredded from the sword training, and my legs were jelly from all the running. But the weirdest part? I was getting faster. Sure, I was still exhausted, but now I could run longer before I collapsed. The first week, I crumbled after just a few laps. By week three, I was managing double that before my muscles gave out. Despite the pain, I couldn¡¯t deny my body was slowly adapting to the torture. "But this is not what I signed up for!!¡± I grumble, sprawled out on my bed. ¡°I¡¯m all for strong women, but if this keeps up, I¡¯ll be a cripple before the month¡¯s out. Give me back my midnight office hours over waking up at dawn to exercise myself to death. I miss my phone, my games, my never-ending list of online novels and comics..." I sigh, staring up at the ceiling. "But here I am, trying to survive this torture. Honestly, I¡¯d rather stay a fan of strong women than try to become one. If this were a novel, there¡¯s no way I¡¯d be the female lead¡ªI¡¯m more of a brain than a brawn kind of person. I just wish this world came with a cheat sheet or a handy guide, like in those clich¨¦ isekai stories." Then, just when I thought things couldn¡¯t get worse, the ultimate punishment hit me the next day: I got my period. ?? I was utterly doomed. I¡¯d completely lost track of my cycle, and now this was the cherry on top of my hellish sundae. I rushed to the restroom, scrubbing at the bloodstains on my bedsheet like it was on fire. "What do I do? What do I do? Argh, these cramps are killing me!" I kicked the walls in frustration, I tried to figure out how to manage without any pads. Most of the people here were men, and the only two female servants I trusted¡ªRowena and Lea¡ªwere nowhere to be found. Why must I suffer this torment? After scrubbing the sheets clean, I hung them over the shower pole and rummaged through my closet. All I found were uniforms, a few spare clothes, and a blanket¡ªabsolutely nothing useful for my current crisis. ¡°One more lap!¡± the warrior assigned to Rowell shouted as we watched him struggle through his final round. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to sit down?¡± Marco asked, noticing I hadn¡¯t taken a break during each session. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I want to get my legs used to standing, since I¡¯ll be sitting later on during decoding,¡± I lied. Truthfully, I was terrified of staining my pants. I barely managed to sneak away to change the ragcloth every hour, desperate not to let anyone catch on. One last set of sword swings, and I was done for the day. RIP to my hygiene, but desperate times called for desperate measures. ¡°I¡­I survived.¡± I collapsed in my bathroom after the day¡¯s training. My entire body ached, and my stomach felt like it was hosting a civil war. We were supposed to shower before heading back to the historian¡¯s office, but I honestly didn¡¯t have the energy. My hormones were on a rollercoaster ride today. Why is my life become so difficult? This won¡¯t do¡ªI need to think of an excuse! Something that I do best. That¡¯s right, I needed that plan! Operation ¡°Employee Tactics 2.0¡± was a go. Step one: Look sick. I shuffled into the historian¡¯s room like I¡¯d barely survived a zombie apocalypse. Step two: Convince them I was really sick. I put on my best dramatic cough and scribbled weakly in my notes like I was barely hanging on. Step three: Act dizzy and on the verge of collapse. I wobbled around the room, almost tipping over, and voil¨¤¡ªhook, line, and sinker. ¡°Are you okay, Tuk?¡± Leon, bless his heart, finally noticed. ** cough** cough** ¡°I¡¯m not feeling well, sire. Could I leave early today?¡± I croaked, putting on my best groggy voice. ¡°Of course. Should I call a physician¡ª¡± ¡°No, I¡¯ll be fine if I just rest a bit,¡± I quickly interrupted, trying to sound as pitiful as possible. ¡°Y¡­yeah, sure. Please, go and rest for now.¡± Yes! ¡°Thank you, Sire Leon. I¡¯m sorry, everyone. I¡¯ll make it up to you later.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Tuk. We understand. Please take care of yourself. We¡¯ll manage here,¡± Rowell said, and Marco nodded in agreement. The other historians didn¡¯t seem too concerned, so I thanked them again and practically bolted out of the room. For the first time in ages, I got a full night¡¯s rest. Ironically, the next day, I actually caught a cold and had to visit a physician, who gave me some medicine and excused me from training for a week. Meals were served to my room, and I could finally breathe comfortably without the chest bandage. Who knew getting sick could be such a blessing? Chapter 7: Surviving the Isekai: Reverse Cards and Hidden Clues Another week passed, and the hellish routine began anew. Life in this new world had turned into a relentless nightmare¡ªa daily grind of sweat and suffering instead of the charming tea parties, pretty dresses, and dashing men I once imagined. Instead, I''m surrounded by the overpowering stench of sweat and too many muscles. Urgh! Why do these men find it thrilling to torture themselves with exercise? Oh gods¡ªBuddha, Allah, or anyone who might be listening¡ªplease, just let me go back to my world! I swear, I¡¯ll never wish for an isekai adventure again! I¡¯ll even quit binge-watching anime! Just as I was halfway through my desperate prayer, my coach appeared beside me, his face set in grim determination. ¡°What are you doing? Run.¡± Oh, fantastic! I hope you trip on your own sweat, Orc Monster Jerk! I thought bitterly, but I laced up and started running anyway. ¡°I told you to take your shirt off. It¡¯ll help you breathe better,¡± he barked, effortlessly keeping pace with me while I struggled. Y''eah, right. And what''s next? you¡¯ll want me to dance a jig in a tutu!'' ¡°No, thanks,¡± I replied coolly, sprinting faster in the faint hope of escaping both him and his terrible advice. I really want to rip this chest binder off! I feel like I¡¯m suffocating. Oh, my poor twins, I¡¯m so sorry for hiding you, but we¡¯ve got to survive this hell! After what felt like an eternity of running¡ª36 laps to be exact¡ªmy legs were quaking like jelly. Maybe coming back from that cold wasn¡¯t my best idea. Forget about returning home; at this rate, I¡¯ll be a permanent resident of the Crippled and Sweaty Club! After a quick break, we moved on to sword drills. I lifted the sword, which felt like I was hoisting my 16-inch laptop after a week of fasting. My hands were trembling and covered in scratches and calluses. My once soft, beautiful hands were gone. ¡°I can¡¯t do this anymore,¡± I groaned, dramatically dropping the sword. ¡®That¡¯s it. I¡¯m done. If I die, at least I won¡¯t have to endure this medieval boot camp anymore!¡¯ ¡°All of you are weak,¡± the coach barked, his voice cutting through the air like a lash. ¡°At this rate, you¡¯ll be dead before you even step foot on the battlefield.¡± His words landed like a slap, striking my already bruised pride. ¡°Why¡­ why are we even going to war in the first place?¡± I shouted back, my frustration finally boiling over. ¡°We¡¯re historians, not warriors!¡± ¡°It¡¯s His Highness¡¯s command. Or are you suggesting you¡¯d disobey the prince himself?¡± His gaze drilled into me, daring me to defy him. ''His Highness this, His Highness that. I bet he¡¯s lounging on some throne, sipping wine while we do all the heavy lifting!'' ¡°From what I recall, His Highness ordered us to be trained for self-defense, not to be turned into warriors. And if we¡¯re going to be forced to fight, shouldn¡¯t we have the right to choose our weapons? You¡¯re built like a tank, but we¡¯re¡­ well," I can''t help but to glance at Leon and the others for a bit, "not tanks. If you¡¯re using a sword, why shouldn¡¯t we get to choose weapons suited to our own abilities? We¡¯re historians, after all.¡± I added The coach sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re going to study your enemy before striking? Use that big brain of yours to ¡®outwit¡¯ a sword? You¡¯re a fool if you think brains are all that matter in war.¡± This jerk! ¡°If brains aren¡¯t needed, then why waste time drilling strategy?¡± I shot back, the words tumbling out in a mix of anger and nerves. I felt like a tiny bird squawking at a hawk, but my frustration kept me going. ¡°T-Tuk, maybe you should just stop¡­¡± Leon whispered, but I ignored him, too far gone to back down. ¡°No, they need to understand their training is all wrong for us!¡± ¡°What did you say to me?!¡± he roared, eyes blazing. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Then what do you suggest?¡± The coach¡¯s retort was cut off by a sudden voice at my back, I turned to see the prince strolling toward us with a presence so powerful, it was like a wave crashing over the field. He was immaculate, not a bead of sweat on him, his expression calm yet commanding. The coaches immediately kneeled, leaving me standing¡ªawkwardly defiant. ¡°I apologize for this unseemly interruption, Your Highness,¡± the coach stammered, reaching over to push my head into a bow. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯d actually like to hear our historian¡¯s thoughts,¡± the prince said with an amused smile, his voice as smooth as silk. I almost choked as the coach smacked me on the back of my head, nearly knocking me to the ground in a rough ¡°encouragement¡± to answer. I glared up at him, knowing he wouldn¡¯t dare retaliate in front of the prince. I was so sick of these power games! But seeing the prince and the blood-splattered generals behind him, I realized I was lucky they hadn¡¯t decided to kill me on the spot. Sure, I¡¯d shouted ¡°let me die¡± before, but I¡¯d rather it be painless, not served up as entertainment for these muscle-bound sadists! I took a breath, fighting to keep my voice steady. ¡°Different weapons suit different abilities, Your Highness. For instance, a polearm¡¯s reach can help fend off cavalry, while smaller weapons like sais or kunai work better for those of us with lighter builds. These swords are too heavy for us; we¡¯d be better trained with weapons we can actually use effectively.¡± ¡°Interesting.¡± The prince looked thoughtful, the amused smile lingering as he watched my little rebellion unfold. Here¡¯s hoping this doesn¡¯t end with me in a dungeon instead! ¡°It seems we have a very¡­ innovative little lark in our midst,¡± he said, raising an eyebrow at the generals. ¡°What do you think?¡± The generals exchanged uneasy glances, nodding reluctantly. They probably wanted to finish the discussion and didn''t even think of anything since the prince¡¯s word was law. One of the coaches mustered the nerve to object. ¡°Your Highness, are you truly allowing them to wield uncommon weapons?¡± The prince didn''t speak but his gaze darkened, his eyes glinting like steel. ¡°Pierce, escort our historian to the Weaponsmith.¡± The air shifted, and a shadowy figure materialized beside the prince with ninja-like stealth. He barely seemed real, more a specter than a man, and he made my blood run cold. How many of these shadowy warriors did the prince keep around? Was there some secret audition for assassins? ¡°I look forward to the results,¡± the prince said with a faint, knowing smile, before turning and striding away. I let out a shaky breath, but my relief was short-lived. The coaches¡¯ eyes bore into me like daggers, their resentment practically pulsing in the air around us. Why did he even show up if he was just going to make everything worse? --- Our training regimen got a serious overhaul after my suggestions the next day. And just when I thought I¡¯d earned a break, my workload somehow tripled. Between interviewing historians about weapon preferences and consulting with the weaponsmith, my schedule was packed tighter than a can of sardines. ¡°You have an impressive understanding of weaponry. This design style never occurred to me before,¡± the weaponsmith said with a nod toward a well-built man standing like a statue by the door. ¡°No wonder His Highness assigned you one of his special warriors.¡± ¡®Impressive? Nah, I¡¯m just a master at copying RPG designs¡­¡¯ I thought, trying to keep a straight face. ¡°Special warrior?¡± I asked, both intrigued and slightly alarmed. ¡°These warriors are branded with the mark of the great ape¡ªmeaning they¡¯re personally commanded by the prince. Rumor has it they¡¯re gifted with extraordinary senses¡ªsmell, sight, hearing¡ªall the traits of perfect trackers and assassins.¡± Anxiety hit me like a hammer. Extraordinary senses? What if he could smell my fear? Or worse, my blood? Oh god, did I cross paths with one of these guys during that time of the month? ¡®Why is everything in this place a nightmare?¡¯ I thought, clenching my fists. My days became a torturous routine: intense morning training, deciphering ancient scrolls, and endless discussions about weapons. At one point, I was even ordered to evaluate warriors under the general¡¯s command¡ªa task I¡¯d sooner call a new circle of hell. And that¡¯s when I arrived at what could only be described as the ¡°death ground.¡± ¡°Is this what warriors do during training?¡± I whispered, eyes wide, as I watched the madness around me. Warriors sparred in bloody, brutal matches, others did push-ups with massive stones on their backs, while some poor souls dangled from ropes, dodging arrows and spears. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± the general said, smiling with sick pride. ¡°Welcome to the Northern Warrior Ground.¡± ¡®So, the coach wasn¡¯t exaggerating when he said we were doing the basics?!¡¯ ¡°To those who want to change their weapons, speak to our historian,¡± the general announced, voice booming. ¡°His Highness has given him full authority to assist you in adapting your skills. So, if you need anything, go to this little guy. Understood, warriors?¡± ¡°YES, SIR!¡± The ground literally shook from their voices. ¡°What¡­ what?!¡± I stammered, as the general patted my shoulder hard enough to bruise. ¡®Hold up, I¡¯m supposed to advise all of them?¡¯ Towering warriors closed in on me, looking like a pack of hungry lions eyeing a very tiny snack. Or maybe a mouse in a lion¡¯s den full of angry, sweaty lions. ¡°Well, uh¡­ where should we start?¡± I managed, plastering on a shaky smile. And that¡¯s how I opened the next chapter of my personal hell. Sure, the warriors appreciated my input¡ªat least that¡¯s what I told myself to stay sane. But agreeing to help was like opening Pandora¡¯s box; my tasks spiraled out of control. Weeks blurred together as I barely found time to breathe, let alone rest. By the third week, exhaustion had me staggering like a zombie. Eventually, I just gave up on dragging myself to my room and collapsed right there on the historian¡¯s office floor. Oddly enough, the cool stone and flickering candlelight felt¡­ comforting. ¡®Talk about an unfortunate series of unluckiness¡ªI said the prince should be the one to cry a river, but it looks like he played an Uno reverse card on me instead.¡¯ But, on the plus side, my training suggestions were working. As I got chummier with the northern warriors, I cleverly gathered intel on the prince¡¯s battalion. They weren¡¯t the brightest, so prying out details about the prince¡¯s secret warriors was like taking candy from a baby. All it took was posing as their number-one fan, buttering them up with praise about their battle skills. Soon enough, they were happily spilling secrets. From what I learned, these secret warriors were terrifyingly real. Their numbers were unclear, but their tracking abilities were straight out of legend. One guy boasted that a single operative could smell a target a mile away. Another claimed he saw one scaling a tree like a monkey on a caffeine high. I even met one of these shadowy warriors¡ªtall, silent, and mysterious. I couldn¡¯t figure out his exact ability, but his sheer presence made me nervous. And the fact that one of these guys had been assigned to watch me was the cherry on top of my anxiety sundae. Perfect. Another headache to keep me up at night. Does he think I¡¯m a threat? Does he know I¡¯m not who I say I am? --- In an effort to lay low, I started hiding out in the historian¡¯s office, pretending to pour over scrolls everyday. But secretly, I was analyzing every detail, looking for any clue that might crack the scroll¡¯s secrets. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯m missing,¡± I muttered, glaring at the text as if I could intimidate it into giving up its mysteries. ¡°There has to be a way to figure out the order of these scrolls. What am I overlooking?¡± I circled the room, inspecting the edges and cuts of each scroll, desperately hoping to spot something, anything. After what felt like hours, I finally noticed it¡ªa subtle pattern in the strip cuts along the edges. My pulse quickened as the pieces began to click together. ¡°I¡¯m actually getting scared of myself now¡­¡± I whispered, a mix of excitement and dread swirling in my chest. The key to unlocking the scrolls¡¯ sequence was in their strip cuts! This discovery was both exhilarating and terrifying, confirming that the puzzle I was unraveling was something I could crack. Chapter 8: A Humor Strategy Before the Storm
The grand hall of the prince¡¯s palace was huge and intimidating, with tall ceilings and pillars that seemed to go on forever. Tuk walked in, trying to keep his breathing steady. The prince sat on his throne, staring at Tuk with cold eyes that seemed to see right through him. Tuk swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that stare. Why did he call me here so suddenly? His notes, filled with messy theories from many sleepless nights, crinkled in his sweaty hands. He knew that jokes were his best way to stay safe¡ªa mix of truth and silliness always worked for him. The prince¡¯s voice broke the silence like a knife. ¡°Historian Tuk,¡± he said calmly, but there was a hint of danger in his tone, ¡°it has been a month. You assured me that this scroll would be decoded by now. And yet, I see no results.¡± Sweat trickled down Tuk¡¯s back. He had to be careful. He didn¡¯t know the prince well, but he was sure this was not a man to mess with, especially when it came to the scrolls. She can¡¯t change the past, but she could try to save herself now. ¡°Your Highness,¡± Tuk said, forcing a shaky smile, ¡°I guess my first thoughts were too hopeful. When I started looking at the scroll, I thought it was in a simple dialect. But the more I studied it, the harder it became. This job needs someone really smart.¡± The prince raised an eyebrow, not looking impressed. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying you¡¯re not skilled enough to do it?¡± Yes, exactly, you crazy man! she thought, but she quickly put on a shocked face and mimicked the polite gestures Leon always used. ¡°Oh, no, Your Highness!¡± she said, her hands moving in an overly respectful sweep. ¡°I can do it, but I need more time. The words in this scroll are tricky. Take this symbol ?, for example¡ªit looks like it means ¡®person,¡¯ but it could also mean ¡®fire,¡¯ or ¡®a cross with rope.¡¯ Deciding which one is right takes time.¡± The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed, looking like a predator losing patience. ¡°And how much time will this take?¡± Tuk paused, trying to come up with a safe answer. ¡°Well, Your Highness, with how complex it is, I¡¯d say¡­ several months per word.¡± ¡°Per word?¡± The prince¡¯s voice was dangerously soft, like the calm before a storm. Tuk nodded quickly. ¡°Yes, per word. But that way, we can be really sure the translation is right. We don¡¯t want to rush and get it wrong, do we? You know what they say: haste makes waste, and waste is¡­ not great.¡± The prince¡¯s stare was unreadable, and the silence was so heavy Tuk¡¯s heart raced. He needed to change the prince¡¯s focus. A smile crept onto his face. ¡°And, Your Highness,¡± Tuk added with a grin, ¡°if I rushed and got it wrong, who knows what might happen? We could end up with a purple dinosaur instead of a dragon! And while everyone loves Barney, I don¡¯t think anyone here is ready for a sing-along.¡± The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed, and the room fell silent. ¡°Barney?¡± he said, looking confused. Tuk felt the tension grow and quickly explained. ¡°Uh, yes, Your Highness,¡± Tuk stammered, ¡°Barney is¡­ a friendly purple dinosaur who likes to sing and play. Lots of hugs, not much fire.¡± Why did I even bring up Barney?! Tuk thought, blaming his niece for putting that in his head. The prince stared at him with a mix of confusion and something else. Then, Tuk saw the tiniest twitch at the corner of the prince¡¯s mouth, like he was fighting back a smile. ¡°Historian Tuk,¡± the prince said at last, his voice cool but with a touch of humor, ¡°you¡¯re lucky I find your¡­ creativity¡­ entertaining. I¡¯ll give you more time. But be warned: my patience has limits. If you fail, not even purple dinosaurs will save you.¡± Tuk bowed deeply, hiding his sigh of relief. ¡°Thank you, Your Highness. I promise to work hard on this scroll. Maybe I¡¯ll even find a way to make the dragon a little less¡­ cuddly.¡± The prince waved him away, and Tuk left the hall. As he walked out, he chuckled. He had escaped the prince¡¯s anger for now. With any luck, he¡¯d figure out the scroll¡¯s meaning before his next close call. Tuk felt relief, and the next she knew she was mingling with the warrior. --TUK''s POV--
As I walked through the corridor, one of the warriors invited me, or the right word was he dragged me to their group, and the next thing I knew I was in some tavern where they decided to throw a celebration after winning a recent battle. They praised me with words about how their weapon makes a big difference to their training so I guess they invited me here to show their gratitude for helping with their weapons which was technically not my intention at all.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. I hesitated getting to close to these men knowing that being in close quarters with them could be a double-edged sword against me. Yet, I agreed, thinking it might be the perfect opportunity to avoid any suspicion about my gender and get a better read on these brawny brutes who could easily crush me with a single swing. As I walked into the tavern, the feeling hit me hard. The place was dark but fancy. Shiny wood glowed in the dim light. Big wall hangings showed bloody fights, each thread telling a violent story. The air smelled strongly of good drinks, cooked meats, and women''s perfume so strong it could make you cough. The warriors were already drunk, laughing loudly. Women in silk clothes fluttered their eyelashes at them. It was all too much. The warriors'' faces were red from winning and drinking. They filled the room with loud laughs and the harsh sound of cups hitting together. The women in their shiny silk clothes teased the men. Their eyes sparkled with fun and something darker. The noise was almost too much - a mix of music, laughter, and a feeling that something bad might happen. Well, I guess for a grown adult, the right word is fun. I tried to stay hidden, sitting in the shadows with my wine. I nodded along to talks I could barely hear over the noise. The warriors celebrated wildly, drinking to old wins and future fights. But under their brave act, I could feel they were scared. They knew some of them might die in the next fight. This scary thought made every drink feel heavier. Hours felt like forever. Each moment dragged on in the heavy air. My heart beat faster when I finally saw a chance to leave the crowded tavern. Carefully, I moved through the drunk warriors. It was easy to slip away without them noticing. When I stepped into the cool night air, I felt better, but still worried about how close I''d come to danger. The quiet night felt strange after all that noise. "Time to be a spy," I thought, as I disappeared into the dark streets. Even though I was a bit tipsy, I walked through the empty alleys like I was in a spy movie. I took each step like I was on a secret mission. I imagined I was a cool spy, moving quietly through the shadows. Really, I looked more like a clumsy bird walking at night. The few shopkeepers who saw me looked at me funny, like I was talking to myself. The night was very quiet. I could only hear the soft sounds of sellers packing up their shops. The market was closing, but it was still full of colorful tents and flickering lights. These made long, dark shapes on the stone paths. I took this chance to buy things I needed - stuff to make life in this rough world easier. One of these things was something I never thought I''d want so much¡ªsanitary pads. I moved between the shops, looking around carefully. Then I saw a small stand that caught my eye. A local seller was showing how to make both pads and perfume. Well, kind of similar. The pads were made from cloth and some kind of soft moss¡ªsimple, but good enough. His hands moved quickly, showing he''d done this for years. He put the pads together layer by layer. Wow, it''s the first time I saw how to create sanitary-like pads, and this seller is really good with his hands! Next to him, he mixed sweet-smelling oils and herbs to make perfume. It was interesting to watch. Using herbs for both cleaning and smelling good showed they knew about staying clean in this world, even if their ways were simpler than what I knew. "These should work," I thought, looking at the pads. "They''re different, but as long as they keep me clean, they''ll be fine." Even though I was tired, I watched closely. Learning to make these myself could be helpful, a small win to make life a bit easier in this hard world. I bought enough for a month, and a book on how to make the perfume. It felt good to be prepared for whatever came next. With my bag fuller but feeling a bit better, I walked back through the tents and alleys, ready for what would happen next. But sadly, all my money was gone. "Even in another world, I still have no money. I''m a bimbo through and through," I said to myself, holding my empty money bag. "If I am going to be isekai at least make me a daughter of a noble!" I thought angrily as I walked back to the tavern. --- A few months had passed, and yet another chaotic day dragged on. As usual, I stumbled into the historian''s office, still reeling from the swordsmith¡¯s brutal assessment, which I had pretended to understand. The advice to ''fake it till you make it'' is not effective to me. My body felt like I had climbed a hundred miles of mountain, and my brain was not functioning either. I think I used up all my thinking process for the day. There was something different in the air in the office today, like the moments before a storm or is it just me overthinking and analyzing things? Ah, whatever, All I wanted today was a chair with no people around, a bit of peace and quiet space, and perhaps a snack to soothe the sting of the swordsmith''s cutting critique which I really don''t understand. A few moments later, the door creaked open. To everyone''s surprise, the prince walked in, looking scary and important. He moved around like he owned the place¡ªwhich he did. His presence felt like a dark, heavy storm cloud that you knew would ruin everyone''s day. Just looking at him, I could see my day was already ruined. The prince walked to Sir Leon''s fancy chair, eating grapes like he was just visiting a fun place. Every move he made looked planned, showing how confident and cold he was. The room felt nervous and jumpy. The historians, who usually looked calm, tried hard not to look at the prince. It was like they thought his eyes might burn holes in them. His quiet secretary followed him, with two big, scary warriors who looked like they could break bones just by looking at you. They made the warm room feel cold and hard to breathe in. I tried to sink lower in my chair, wishing I could disappear. With the prince here, the day had turned into a real nightmare. Just great! I thought, sliding down in my now-uncomfortable seat. The only thing that could make this worse was the prince making my life harder¡ªand knowing my luck, that was probably what he''d do next. "What does it mean?" The prince''s voice was sharp and clear, cutting through the soft talking of the historians. He looked right at Leon, who stood there looking pale and shaking as the prince watched him. ?? | ¡°Argh! Why is the water so cold?!¡± I hissed, jolting awake as a cricket decided to make my face its landing pad. The camp was dead silent, everyone asleep in their tents. I¡¯d managed to sneak away unnoticed, but I hadn¡¯t expected the water to be freezing.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Ah, whatever!¡± I muttered, wincing as I forced myself deeper into the icy lake, biting down hard to keep from screaming. This is torture! My body trembled uncontrollably as I hurriedly scrubbed down with the soap and shampoo I¡¯d sweet-talked out of the kitchen maids. Normally, I loved taking long baths, but at this rate, I was going to start hating them¡ªif they were always this cold! Every few seconds, I peeked nervously over the rocks, making sure no one was lurking. My lips had gone numb, and I was sure they were turning blue, but I pressed on, shivering all the while. When I finally finished, I scrambled out, dressing in fresh clothes with trembling hands and wrapping myself in every dry garment I had left. I huddled by the fire pit, praying for the warmth to sink into my bones. This is torture! Torture! Before I knew it, I was fast asleep again, my wet hair plastered to my face like a soggy mop. Maybe if I got sick, I could use it as an excuse to escape this madness, but no¡ªmy stubborn body refused to cooperate. Even catching a cold seemed impossible. My immune system had apparently decided to team up against me. Of course, even my own body conspires against my escape plan. "Hey, Tuk..." "Tuk, wake up!" I jolted awake, gasping for air, my fingers tightly clutching Leon''s clothes like they were the only thing grounding me in reality. The nightmare still clung to me¡ªthat headless face from my first day in this cursed world, its twisted smile etched into my mind. This place¡­ it just keeps giving me new traumas, I thought grimly. "Are you okay? Sorry for waking you so abruptly, but we have to go now." Leon¡¯s voice was soft, but the urgency in his words sent a chill through me. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, trying to make sense of where I was. The weather wasn''t helping¡ªit was as if nature couldn''t decide between desert heat or autumn chill. Around us, the camp was bustling, people swiftly packing up. "Everyone¡¯s been preparing; we¡¯re entering the border of Homonhon." Ah, that¡¯s right... We¡¯re at war. Maybe that¡¯s why I dreamed of that scene again. Leon gave me a sympathetic smile as he helped me to my feet. "By the way, I didn¡¯t know you had curly hair. That¡¯s rare, but it looks good on you." My hand shot to my head, only to realize I¡¯d forgotten to tie up my hair before sleeping. It was still damp from last night¡¯s icy lake bath. I scrambled to fix it as I followed Leon toward one of the barracks, fighting the exhaustion that made my limbs feel heavy. The trees around us seemed exhausted too¡ªsome bore autumn leaves, others had fresh spring blossoms. The ground beneath our feet was either rock-hard or as mushy as summer mud. And the warrior? They acted like they were on a twisted vacation, casually lounging around, or worse, stripping down and diving into every lake or waterfall we passed, their¡­ well mushrooms flapping freely in the breeze. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t avoid the sight. Every time I spotted a naked figure, my brain screamed, Why, why, why?! But I kept my mouth shut¡ªacting out would only make things worse and draw unwanted attention. I can get used to this soon, right? After walking for what felt like forever, we came out of the forest into a cold, empty place. The ground was covered in snow and dirt. The air was very cold, even though the sun was bright. I didn''t know how many days we had been walking. The warriors kept going without getting tired, but I felt like I was dying. I have never been walking this far to the point that I can feel the muscle on my legs ripping apart. Why is it so damn cold now? What¡¯s wrong with the weather in this world?! My toes throbbed, raw and aching. The nail on my baby toe had already fallen off somewhere along the way, but I didn¡¯t even have the energy to care anymore. I just wanted all of this to stop¡ªwhether by battle or by the cold, I wasn¡¯t picky. "What should we do?" Rowell¡¯s voice trembled, his hands shaking so violently I thought he might drop his sword. Seeing his fear mirrored my own¡ªit was some small comfort knowing I wasn¡¯t alone. But it didn¡¯t make the dread any easier to bear. I put two short swords on my legs. My fingers were numb as I tried to breathe slowly. We were all scared, but we couldn''t go back. "The prince said we need to stay alive. If we want to do that, we need a plan. Do you want to hear it?" I looked at Leon and the others. They looked scared and pale. They weren''t acting brave anymore. They knew we might all die. "First, if someone attacks you, use your shield and run to the nearest warrior. Hide behind them. Second, find the safest place¡ªnear the warriors. Last, always be ready to run. If the warrior protecting you falls, find another one and stay close." ¡°So, in short, stick near the warriors,¡± Marco said flatly, his usually sharp gaze dulled by disappointment. ¡°Exactly,¡± I replied, trying to muster some confidence, but even I knew how weak it sounded. "That¡¯s not a plan, Tuk," Leon muttered, dropping to the ground in frustration, his voice cracked from defeat. "Really? I thought it was decent," I said, trying to lighten the mood, though deep down, the pit in my stomach told me otherwise. "It¡¯s easy for you," Rowell snapped, his voice harsh. "You¡¯re favored by the prince, the warriors know who you are. They¡¯ll protect you without a second thought. But for us? We barely know these people. Hell, they might just let us die and say we got caught in the crossfire." Rowell¡¯s words stung because they were true. I had a level of safety they didn¡¯t, and the guilt twisted inside me like a knife. Leon, ever the peacemaker, stood up again. ¡°We¡¯re all on edge. Whatever happens, just stay alive. I want us back at the historian¡¯s office, arguing over old scrolls, not¡­not dying here. So let¡¯s survive, okay? Do your best.¡± His words struck something deep inside me. My throat tightened, and for a brief moment, I felt the sting of tears welling up. We were all terrified, all struggling, but I wanted to believe¡ªneeded to believe¡ªthat we could survive this. Suddenly, the commander¡¯s voice pierced the freezing air. "Get ready, warriors! The battle will start soon. Be brave and show them how strong the prince''s warriors are! FOR THE EMPIRE!" "FOR THE EMPIRE!!!" all the warriors shouted together, sounding very determined. All I could think was, The end. Please let this end. "GET READY FOR BATTLE!!!" The roar echoed through the air like a thunderclap. The conversation died instantly as we looked ahead to see the warriors marching forward, the prince at the helm. The sound of weapons clanging and scraping filled the air, making my heart thud painfully in my chest. The ground beneath us felt like it was quaking, the weight of a thousand unseen horrors pressing down on my chest. ''This is real. This is really happening!'' The air seemed to freeze. The shout was so loud. We all stopped talking and saw the warriors walking forward, with the prince in front. The sound of weapons hitting each other was so loud. My heart was beating so hard. The ground felt like it was shaking. I felt like something heavy was pushing on my chest. This is real. This is really happening. The air felt like it froze. "WE ARE BEING ATTACKED!" Everything went crazy. Before I could think, arrows were falling from the sky like sharp rain. The white snow turned red as people got hit. I could smell blood, and I heard people screaming in pain. I hate this world! I hate Isekai!! Chapter 11: The Empire of Homonhon Clang! Shing! Cling! The battle was so loud and scary. Warriors were fighting hard. The sound of swords hitting each other was everywhere, echoing around me like the tolling of a death bell. Smoke and dust choked the sky, casting an eerie twilight over the chaos, turning everything into a distorted nightmare. I had admired strong women in stories, like Mulan and Merida but I never wished or dream to be like them! What good was being brave in this? I wasn''t a warrior. I wasn''t a hero. I would¡¯ve given anything to be a delicate noblewoman with a fan, safe and far from this horror. "ARROWS COMING!!!" The warning cut through the noise, making me suddenly alert. I fell to the ground and closed my eyes tight as arrows flew over me. I heard them hit people with awful sounds. When I dared to look up, the warriors had made a wall with their shields to protect each other. I crawled to the middle of their group, feeling like a scared child hiding behind big people. I saw their bloody swords and broken shields and felt ashamed. What was I even doing here? "Aaahh! I almost really died!" I yelled, but no one could hear me over all the noise. The fighting was all around me, so loud and violent. My legs were shaking as I tried to move and not get hit. People were falling all around me. Every breath I took felt like it might be my last. My chest hurt from trying so hard just to stay alive. Clang! A knight ran at me, his face hidden by a dirty helmet, his sword ready to kill. "N-no, I''m not an enemy!" I said, but my voice was too quiet. He saw my red armor and knew I was his enemy. Of course. Red armor! It was like asking to be killed. He hit harder and faster, making me so tired. I could barely hold up my swords, my arms shaking from his hits. Just when I thought it was over, another person jumped in and killed my attacker quickly. The warrior with the red cap looked at me, but I didn''t stay to say thanks. My legs just moved, taking me where there was less fighting. I hid behind a pile of snow, breathing hard and shaking all over. ''What was all that training for if all I can do is hide? Call me a coward, but I am not your everyday war girl!'' I hid deeper in the snow, watching the battle. It was horrible. There was blood on the snow, and parts of bodies everywhere. I could hear people screaming as they died or won. I felt like I was going to be sick. I wanted to run, but where? There was no way out. Death was everywhere, ready to get me if I made one mistake. My only hope was that the Homonhon Empire, the place from the old stories in the scrolls, had a way to save me. All this stupid war, the scroll, and the codes better be worth it, or I swear, I''ll burn them all. Clang I froze as something flew past me on my right. I was too scared to look, but I saw it move from the corner of my eye. It was so fast and close. I remembered that first scary day when I came here¡ªall the fighting and violence. It hit me like a big wave. ''Please don''t be a head. Please, not a head,'' I begged in my mind, holding my breath. Slowly, very slowly, I made myself turn to look. I was so scared, but I had to see. I breathed out in relief, still shaking. It wasn''t a head. It was just a dented metal helmet that had fallen off someone. It was on the ground next to me, not dangerous now, but I was still scared. I stayed still in my hiding place, listening. It was quieter here, but I knew I was still in the middle of a war. The cold air smelled like blood, and it made me feel sick. "Damn, he''s a monster," I said quietly. I could see the prince fighting. He moved so smoothly and killed the last enemy soldier easily. His face never changed, even when he wiped off the blood. I felt angry. The only reason I felt a little safe in my hiding place was because of him. He had killed most of the enemies around. I hid in the snow, putting my face on my knees. I felt so depressed. I had only wanted to buy some nice shoes after working at home for so long. Now I was here, trying not to die in this crazy world. The life I wanted to go back to seemed so far away now. Why am I even trying to live? I thought sadly. I should be safe at home by now... What did I do to deserve this? I started to cry a little. I slapped my cheeks to make myself stop.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ''Crying won''t help. Get yourself together!'' I took a deep breath and tried to think clearly in all this chaos. "Wait, this scene... could it be¡ª" I stopped, realizing something scary but still hopeful. The bloody ground, the dead bodies everywhere¡ªit was just like when I first came to this world. It was like I was in a twisted version of a story I once read, where the main character had to keep living through the chaos she had started without knowing. Could this world be like that story I read? I hoped so. If it was, there had to be a way out. In stories, characters always found something¡ªa bracelet, a necklace, some magic thing to help them escape. But I had nothing. My shoes, my bag, everything I had when I came here was gone. I felt desperate as I looked around the battlefield, hoping for a sign. Maybe there was a hidden door, like the one that brought me here. I looked in the air, even jumped around, half-expecting to see a glowing hole, a way back to my world. But there was nothing. Just the cold, hard truth of where I was. ¡°So, you managed to dodge death, but you¡¯re still crazy in the head, huh?¡± The prince¡¯s voice cut through my frantic thoughts, sharp and mocking. He strode toward me, tapping the hilt of his sword against my skull. It stung, but more as a jarring wake-up call than a true hit. I winced, the sharp pain pulling me back into reality. His icy demeanor, his gaze as frigid as the blood-stained snow beneath us. ¡°Leave the bodies. We move forward,¡± he commanded, his voice void of any emotion. The prince called out to one of his personal warriors, ¡°Pierce, leave your group to clean up this mess.¡± He mounted his horse with ease, giving one last glance at something before leading his remaining men forward, into the heart of the empire. I followed, feeling like a ghost as I trailed in his wake. The Homonhon Empire¡¯s palace loomed ahead, dark and foreboding. The generals had already carved a bloody path, the soldiers inside easily overwhelmed. No one stood in our way. The entrance yawned before us like the maw of some great beast, waiting to swallow us whole. The Homonhon palace was a breathtaking contrast to Marceau¡¯s fortress. While Marceau¡¯s palace screamed of gold and brute power, the Diamond Palace shimmered with an almost ethereal elegance. As soon as I stepped inside, I was mesmerized. The walls, adorned in silver, blue-grey, and white, sparkled like facets of a diamond, casting a soft, otherworldly glow. Slender arches and graceful columns seemed both delicate and strong, a marvel of sophistication. The polished floors gleamed beneath me, reflecting the light from ornate chandeliers that scattered a prismatic glow. The cool, fragrant air carried the scent of exotic flowers, making the entire palace feel like a dream brought to life. As I marveled at the palace''s beauty, something caught my eye¡ªa series of intricate markings woven into the palace¡¯s very design, eerily familiar to those of Marceau, but with one key difference: a dragon encircling the symbols. My thoughts immediately drifted to the scroll. The scrolls had hinted at something about a realm guarded by dragons. The scroll spoke of pieces and a rightful space. It gnawed at me. Could it be referring to... the way between worlds? The dragon¡¯s power. The prince¡¯s obsession. It all began to fit together, like fragments of a long-forgotten puzzle. And the fact that I was suddenly transported here was undeniable proof that there might be a way out¡ªif I could figure it out in time. I tried to remember what I discovered these past few months: ?? Inscribe: ???57 5???? ?#? ????|< 7#?? ???4?3, 74|<3 4 ?13?3 4?? 6?1?3 ?17# 4 6??1??53. ??37 7#3 6?347 ??46?? 6?4?? ????? ???4?3 4?? 17 ?1???? 5#?? ???? 7#3 ?16#7=??? 5?4?3. Translated: Lost soul who look thy place, take a piece and guide with a glimpse. Let the great dragon guard your place and it will show you the rightful space. The symbols twisted before my eyes, but one stood out¡ªa dragon''s claw. Slowly, the text unraveled in my mind: Lost soul who seeks their place... take a piece... the dragon guards your rightful space. The prince had boasted of great power and wealth contained within the scrolls, and I now understood why he was so obsessed. After studying the 8th part of the scroll, which spoke of a promise bound to the strong heart, I wondered if the ¡°pieces¡± referenced were indeed the scrolls themselves. ?? Inscribe: |, ?#? #???? 7#3 ?34??7# 4?? ???3? ?= 7#3 ?16#7?? ??3. B??3553? 34?# ?13?35 7? 7#3 57???6 #34?7. ?17# 4 ????153 81?? 1? ??? #4??, ?? ?4? ?17# 4 51?=??? #34?7 ?4? #???? 7#3 ???3? 1? ??? #34?7. Translated: I, who hold the wealth and power of the mighty one. Blessed each piece to the strong heart. With a promise bound in my hand, no man with a sinful heart can hold the power in our heart. Leon¡¯s words echoed in my mind, amplifying my unease. The prince¡¯s belief in the scroll¡¯s magic only deepened my suspicions. The author of the scrolls had knowledge from both the past and future, guiding someone¡ªmaybe someone like me¡ªback home. As my mind spun with the scroll¡¯s secrets, the throne room came into view. The grandeur matched the palace¡¯s beauty, but my thoughts were elsewhere¡ªon the pieces of the puzzle that now felt so dangerously close to falling into place. Yet the prince, sitting on the throne, was all too real. The prince settled into the vacant seat with an air of absolute authority, as though the space had long awaited his presence. The throne, a magnificent creation of silver and crystal, gleamed under the light, each facet catching it like a flawless diamond. Its design blended perfectly with the lavish room, a marriage of grandeur and restrained elegance. Then, the atmosphere shifted¡ªthicker, charged with something unspoken. A presence entered, drawing the attention of every soul in the room, mine included. My breath stilled. The man who strode in carried a beauty beyond description, more ethereal than human. His golden hair caught the light like spun sunlight, and his eyes¡ªblue-grey and fathomless¡ªseemed to pierce through flesh and bone, as though seeing the secrets within me. His physique held both strength and elegance, each movement deliberate, calculated. But he was bound¡ªthick silver chains clasped his wrists and ankles. This wasn¡¯t just any citizen of Homonhon. He was a prisoner. Something within me shifted, a sudden, inexplicable rush of unease and attraction. I couldn¡¯t pull my eyes away. ¡°He¡¯s... stunning,¡± I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice. And yet the truth came crashing in: He is not my ally. This man, whatever power he held, was in chains¡ªunder Marceau¡¯s control. A tool for their purpose, not mine. Whatever danger he posed, it was aimed at me just as much as it was contained by the prince¡¯s will. Fear knotted in my chest. Could he know something of the scrolls? Of the dragon? What if he¡¯s the key? He might be the missing piece¡ªthe one who could either complete my puzzle or tear everything apart. Chapter 12: The Deposed Prince and the Modern Girl
I showed my identification card to the warrior guarding the cell. He scrutinized it with intensity, then finally unlocked the cage. As he left us alone, returning to his post at the main entrance, the door creaked open, and I hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of what I was about to do. "Hi?" I managed awkwardly, not entirely sure how to approach the fallen prince. He glared at me, his silence heavy with anger and despair. The weight of his loss hung in the air, making it difficult to find the right words. How do you comfort someone who has lost everything? But I needed his help to complete the scroll and, ultimately, to return home. "Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not here to force you into anything. I¡¯m here to let you know that I¡¯m not your enemy. I¡¯m here to help," I said, trying to inject sincerity into my voice, but he remained mute. "I¡¯m willing to help you escape. In return, I need your help to get back to my world." "I don¡¯t need help." "Really? Even if I told you your sister was caught by our prince?" The prince¡¯s eyes widened, surprise and rage flashing across his face. "Ha! My sister will never be caught by any of your people. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s already escaped with the rest of our people." "Well, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve already captured her," I replied, remembering how I had found the princess desperately trying to hide among the shelves in the library. She had looked like a small, frightened rabbit, nearly in tears, mistaking me for one of those fearsome warriors. It was adorable! "You think you can fool me?" the prince barked, his fury barely masking his disbelief. Without a word, I dropped a small, delicate hair ornament in front of him. "I found her hiding among the shelves in the library. I guess the hidden paths have already been discovered by our warriors." "YOU! Where is she?! Answer me!" The prince''s desperation was palpable as he strained against his chains, as if he could strangle me with his gaze alone. "Don¡¯t worry. She¡¯s somewhere safe," I said, trying to calm him down. "Probably," I added, realizing she might not be entirely safe after we got separated during her escape. But that only made the prince angrier. "Probably, you say?!" he snapped. I observed the prince for a few seconds as he struggled against his chains, much like watching my dog throw a tantrum before getting a shot at the vet. I''d been thinking for a while now about how to convince him, just as I had convinced the princess to trust me. And, as I suspected, having proof was the most effective and efficient way. "Don¡¯t worry. The fact that she¡¯s not here with you means she¡¯s safe." "That¡¯s not very reassuring at all."This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Well, it¡¯s not like you have many other options. Besides, your sister gave me this pin, which means she trusted me. Right?" I said, flashing him my most disarming smile as I sat down in front of him. ¡°Ha, who do you think you¡¯re fooling? For all I know, you must have stole¡ª¡± Without hesitation, I began unbuttoning my clothes and undoing my chest binding, revealing my cleavage. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard to earn your trust. That¡¯s why I¡¯m showing you this secret of mine. As you can see¡ª¡± ¡°C...Cover yourself! Now!¡± he sputtered, his face turning a deep shade of red. ¡®Oh, I didn¡¯t realize he was this bashful.¡¯ I thought, trying to stifle my amusement. ¡°What are you smiling about?¡± he demanded, still flustered. ¡°Oh, I just thought it was cute how similarly you and your sister reacted just now,¡± I giggled, quickly covering myself and re-tightening my clothes. ¡°You let my sister see that?!¡± His horror was so palpable that I don''t know if I should take his word as an insult but I decided to be nonchalant about it ¡°Oh no, we didn¡¯t have much time. I just grabbed her hand and let her touch them,¡± I said as I adjusted my clothes. The prince looked utterly speechless. ¡°As you can see, I''m a woman pretending to be a man not that I want to, but I have to. I¡¯ve never told anyone about this, except you and your sister, because... well, I had to.¡± I started rambling, waving my hands around for emphasis. ¡°The prince captured me, and I became his historian to translate the scroll for him. I had no choice but to disguise myself because, you know, their country is full of scum. I was actually hoping your country would win so I could escape, but... those monsters are too strong for their own good. Oh, just to clarify, by ¡®country,¡¯ I mean your land, towns, or whatever you call it. You get what I mean, right?¡± ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± he asked, looking utterly confused. ¡°I told you, it¡¯s because I need your help to get back to my world,¡± I added. I couldn¡¯t afford to waste time trying to gain his trust¡ªI simply didn¡¯t have enough of it. This was the only moment when His Highness¡¯s secret warriors were nowhere to be seen. The prince was consumed with internal affairs, and the rest of his warriors were either hunting for the princess or securing the newly conquered empire. It was now or never¡ªour one and only chance. But just as we moved, a shadow flickered in the corner of my eye. My heart pounded as I turned, bracing for the worst. But instead of a lurking assassin, I saw¡­ a bug. A tiny, harmless bug. It darted right at my face, and without thinking, I let out an embarrassing yelp and flailed my hands to shoo it away. Here I was, trying to be serious and convincing, and instead, I ended up battling a bug like it was some terrifying enemy. ¡°What?¡± I hissed to the prince. He just stared at me, wide-eyed, clearly trying not to laugh. I took a deep breath, regaining my composure. The bug seems to help me lower his guard ¡°Listen, His Highness¡¯s secret warriors are skilled in tracking. Fortunately, they¡¯re not around at the moment. Once they¡¯re mobilized, it will be much harder for me to help you escape. I only need a few words translated from the scroll, so if you cooperate, it¡¯s a win-win for both of us.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s written on those words, but if you can truly read them, then that man will be unstoppable. I would rather die than help you gain that power.¡± ¡°I understand, I also agree with not giving them the dragon¡¯s power, which is why I¡¯m manipulating what I transcribe for him. So don''t die.¡± ¡°What?¡± he was clearly flabbergasted. His reaction made sense, though. After all, who else would have the audacity to deceive the Empire of Marceau and its formidable prince but someone as reckless¡ªor maybe just plain crazy¡ªas me?
¡°I¡¯m the only one who can read the scrolls easily¡ªat least for now,¡± I said, forcing calm into my voice. ¡°But once the other historians catch up, they¡¯ll realize I¡¯ve been holding back. It¡¯ll take them years to fully understand the scrolls, and by then, I¡¯ll be long gone.¡± The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths like the dying flame beside us. ¡°So, you¡¯re deceiving them?¡± His words stung, a sharp reminder of my precarious position. I¡¯d spent too long treading carefully around these men of power, knowing one wrong move could land me in a cell¡ªor worse. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to survive,¡± I replied, keeping my tone steady. I felt his gaze drilling into me, a scrutiny that could strip away my fa?ade. ¡°I can only stall them for so long, but it¡¯s better than handing over all the words.¡± He studied me, the tension thickening the air between us. After a long pause, he nodded, a reluctant acceptance shimmering in his eyes. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll help you. But if anything happens to my sister, you¡¯ll regret it.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± I said with a wry smile, attempting to break the tension. He squinted, still sizing me up. ¡°How can you be so confident?¡± ¡°I have a plan,¡± I stated, meeting his gaze with unyielding conviction. ¡°And I trust my plan.¡± The prince paused, his gaze fixed on me. I could see him wrestling with his doubts, his skepticism battling with the hope that I might actually have a clue about what I¡¯m doing. The silence stretched, thick with tension, as he weighed whether to trust me or not. Finally, he spoke, his voice cautious but curious. ¡°Tell me your plan.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but grin to myself. ¡®This won¡¯t be easy, but don¡¯t underestimate me.¡¯ ¡°I finished transcribing the scroll from your country last night,¡± I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible. The prince¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. His jaw clenched, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. ¡°You what?¡± His voice was tight, somewhere between disbelief and anger. His reaction made sense, though. After all, who else would have the audacity to deceive the Empire of Marceau and its formidable prince but someone as reckless¡ªor maybe just plain crazy¡ªas me? Chapter 13: I trust my plan
I swallowed hard, trying not to let his reaction shake me. I needed him on my side, but I couldn¡¯t afford to seem too eager to please. ¡°I told you I could do it,¡± I said, meeting his gaze head-on. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, worn notebook. I flipped through the pages until I found the passage I had spent all night decoding. ¡°Listen to this,¡± I said, my voice steady as I began to read. ¡°¡®Only those who ??????? ???? ??????? can attain what you desire. Thus, all the power and wealth will be achieved without a broken mind.¡¯¡± The words sent a shiver down my spine, their meaning slipping just out of reach. I¡¯d been puzzling over those characters for hours, but no matter how many times I read it, the answer refused to reveal itself. It was frustrating, like staring at a lock without a key. I know I have seen this before, but I can''t remember where. The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed as he tried to piece together the cryptic message. ¡°These are the exact words from the scrolls,¡± I said, watching his reaction closely. ¡°But this,??????? ???? ???????, I can¡¯t decipher what it means.¡± His expression shifted from shock to deep thought. Silence fell between us, thickening the air with the weight of the unknown. ¡°If these characters are beyond my understanding,¡± I continued, my voice unwavering, ¡°it will take others years to make sense of them. During tomorrow¡¯s interrogation, you must deny everything. The prince will come for you personally, and he will make you talk.¡± A flicker of defiance flashed in his eyes. ¡°Ha! How arrogant.¡± Leaning in, I spoke more urgently. ¡°I¡¯ll tell him I failed to negotiate with you. When he questions you, say the scroll belongs to the princess, not you.¡± ¡°Why should I say that?¡± Suspicion laced his voice. ¡°Don''t worry, they won¡¯t find your sister for days. I¡¯m trying to help you escape,¡± I said, my tone softening to reassurance. Doubt shadowed his face. Trusting a stranger wasn¡¯t easy, I know, especially now. But he needed to understand that both us are not in a good situation, I need his cooperation in order for my plan to work ¡°If you don¡¯t say those words, I can¡¯t help you. The prince believes ¡®the heart¡¯ in the scrolls is literal, well, someone suggested it and they all believe it. He¡¯s been collecting hearts from those he suspects hold the scrolls¡¯ secrets. If you die here, do you think your sister later?¡± His face hardened. ¡°I won¡¯t let my sister be dragged into this.¡± Frustration surged, but I kept calm. ¡°We¡¯re buying time. If you die, who will protect her? She¡¯s lucky I found her yesterday. Can she survive hiding in the woods alone?¡± His eyes flickered, it seems my words is striking a home run. ¡°How can I trust your plan? My life might be over and so heart before then,¡± he said, quieter now. I lowered my voice. ¡°I have acquired a pill that can stop your heart temporarily and heal you faster than any elixir. Well, not all wounds you will get during interrogation, but its effective enough for you to escape discreetly. After the prince¡¯s interrogation, make sure you¡¯ll take it. It¡¯ll appear as if you died. I¡¯ll handle the rest inside but after that is up to you.¡± Suspicion lingered. ¡°How do you know they won¡¯t question my death?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone survive his interrogation for more than a week.¡± The tension hung like a storm cloud. I kept my composure, I wondered if I¡¯d pushed too hard. My heart pounded in my chest, but I kept my expression calm. He needed to believe I was in control of this plan. I couldn¡¯t afford to show fear¡ªnot now. ¡®Please, don¡¯t let all my effort go to waste,¡¯ I thought. My words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, I wondered if I¡¯d pushed too hard. My heart pounded in my chest, but I kept my expression calm. He needed to believe I was in control. I couldn¡¯t afford to show fear¡ªnot now.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it He stared at me, his mind racing as he considered my proposal. Finally, he spoke, barely above a whisper. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°What?¡± The question caught me off guard ¡°I¡¯m Tuk,¡± I said hesitantly. ¡°Is that your real name?¡± he asked, trying to read my face. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s real or not, right?¡± ¡°It matters to us knights who rely on trust,¡± he said firmly. I hesitated. Giving someone your name was like handing them a thread¡ªone they could pull on and unravel the person I worked so hard to become. But right now, trust was a currency I needed, and it''s not like he can find me in my world. ¡°My name is Sunniva. You can call me Sunni or Iva,¡± I introduced myself for the first time in this world. ¡°I¡¯m Richard Helios, the last prince of Homonhon. I trust you, Sunniva, and will help decode this in return for your aid.¡± His vow was solemn, binding as if making a vow to a god. ¡°Are you done?¡± I promptly asked when he finished. I don''t have time for this. Silence stretched until he whispered, ¡°Heart.¡± He looked at me, a glimmer of realization in his eyes. ¡°the word means ¡®heart¡¯ in our language. The last character ??????? means heart and ??????? means learned. Together, it translates to learned the heart, which can also mean love.¡¯¡± We both fell silent after he explained the word. The prince smirked. ¡°Ha! That man can never attain my ancestor¡¯s power because he doesn¡¯t know how to love.¡± His smirk was triumphant, but my mind raced in a different direction. The realization hit me like a lightning bolt. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Without a word, I grabbed my notes and scribbled down the fully translated phrase, my hand moving almost on its own as the weight of the meaning sank in. What Richard said might make sense in his context, but not with the scroll. If the heart in the scroll meant the same as love, why change the character? Something didn¡¯t add up. A wide smile spread across my face as the truth of the ancient words unfolded before me.
?? ?????? 7#?53 ?#? ??????? ???? ??????? 4? 47741? ?#47 7#3?? ?351?3. ¨“#?5, 4???? ?? 4?? ? ?1???? 83 641?3? ?17#??7 4 8??|<3? ?1??. 4?? ?34??7# ?1???? 83 641?3? ?17#??7 4 8??|<3? ?1??. 4?? ? ?1???? 83 641?3? ?17#??7 4 8??|<3? ?1??. 4?? ?34??7# ?1???? 83 641?3? ?17#??7 4 8??|<3? ?1??. Translate: Only those who learn the heart can attain what they desire. Thus, all power and wealth will be gained without a broken mind.
¡°No, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s right, but we can still use what you said,¡± I muttered, my mind racing. Ideas juggled in my head like a chaotic circus act. ¡°What?¡± The prince¡¯s voice snapped me back to reality, like a cold bucket of water thrown in my face. ¡°It¡¯s not love... it¡¯s the heart,¡± I mumbled. I looked at the prince and stepped closer, placing my hand on his chest while he remained bound. I hope I¡¯m right about this, I thought, recalling an unfinished scroll I had been decoding. ¡°?3?1 4? ?3.¡± The ancient words slipped from my tongue¡ªa phrase I¡¯d stumbled upon. If the power truly existed, this could be the key. But only a faint glimmer of light emerged, like a weary firefly struggling to glow. This must be the power the prince senses, I reasoned, or maybe just a reluctant spark. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked, confusion lacing his tone as if debating whether I was insane or just odd. He''s probably not the one with the key. The realization hit me like a brick. I fought the urge to groan in frustration and kept my expression neutral. ¡°I was told your royal family has two sons and one daughter. Is that true?¡± I asked, forcing an air of casual curiosity. His face darkened, as though someone had extinguished the last flame of joy in his eyes. ¡°My brother died protecting the border, along with my parents. It¡¯s just my sister and me now.¡± ¡°So, she¡¯s the one with the heart problem,¡± I said, almost to myself. The silence between us grew heavy, punctuated by the subtle shift in his posture. ¡°Why do you want to know?¡± His voice was cautious, weighing if I was a dangerous ally or a fool grasping at straws. ¡°If my theory is correct,¡± I said, urgency seeping into my voice, ¡°then His Highness must never find your sister.¡± The realization felt like ice water down my spine. I must find the princess first before him. How did I almost miss this? The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed, confusion mixing with reluctant admiration. I must have stumbled onto something bigger than I thought. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to prevent!¡± he snapped, frustration burning behind his words. Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the corridor. A surge of panic tightened my chest. Without thinking, I grabbed his collar, yanking him close until our breaths mingled. ¡°Listen carefully,¡± I whispered, each word weighted with the risk of this plan. ¡°Richard, Prince of Homonhon¡ªwhen you ¡®die,¡¯ I¡¯ll place a bottle in your pocket. Spray it over yourself when you wake up. The scent will mask your trail and buy you at least a day. They¡¯ll believe you died during interrogation. I¡¯ll make sure there¡¯s no trace left of you around.¡± His eyes flickered between suspicion, confusion, and a flicker of trust that made my chest tighten. ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting for you at the playground¡ªthat¡¯s what your sister left for you. Don¡¯t make this opportunity go to waste,¡± I whispered, barely keeping my voice steady. My fingers gripped his collar, feeling his pulse pounding under my thumb. The enormity of what I was risking pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. ¡°We only get one shot at this,¡± I added, just as the guard¡¯s footsteps drew near. ¡°Hey, visit¡¯s over. They need you upstairs,¡± the guard warrior barked. I shoved Richard away with feigned irritation. ¡°This is pointless,¡± I snapped, storming out to sell the act. I¡¯m almost there. Just a little more, and I might finally go back. There''s a way for me to go back. My pulse quickened, each beat pounding in my ears like a war drum. My hands trembled, and I clenched them to steady myself. There was no turning back. As I emerged from the dungeon, a familiar voice called out, ¡°Tuk! You¡¯re safe!¡± It was Sire Leon, relief thick in his voice as he hurried to me. The sight of everyone alive was a small comfort, but the weariness etched into their faces spoke of hard-won survival. ¡°Sire Leon, everyone... I¡¯m glad you made it,¡± I said, pushing Leon¡¯s head away playfully as he leaned in for a hug. ¡°But we¡¯re not safe yet. We¡¯ve got a problem with the scroll.¡± Silence fell over the group, tension crackling like a live wire. ¡°W-what do you mean?¡± Marco¡¯s voice trembled. I looked at the worry plain on their faces as my words sank in. ¡°See this?¡± I pointed to a small scratch on my neck, a parting gift from the prince I received yesterday. ¡°He gave me this. It''s because we have another unknown character we have to discover on the last scroll. ¡± Their faces turned pale, understanding that there''s another surprise in the scroll that we don''t know about. ¡°Should we heal our wounds before collecting new ones?¡± I said with forced sarcasm, leading them toward the clinic. The war was over, but its scars lingered well not physically I guessed. Strangely, my own wounds healed in days¡ªfar faster than seemed normal. Was it the ointment, or they have real healing abilities? Could their medicine be more advanced than ours? I¡¯m so stupid! Now that I think about it, all their products feel familiar, like relics from my world. Could the black market elixir actually be real? Guilt twisted inside me at the thought of using it on Richard, it worked in small animals... but I am not sure with humans, well if it didn''t work, there was always Plan B. What kind of era is this? I thought with a hint of exasperation. If I¡¯d known I¡¯d end up here, I¡¯d have actually studied isekai instead of skimming its stories. Now, all I do was just going with the flow, but the flow I am currently riding seems like a big wave threatening to become a storm. Marceau had risen as the sole ruler, promising sweeping changes. I¡¯d taken too many risks, placed too many gambles. But how much longer could I keep this up? The question thudded in my chest, relentless and unnerving: Would I survive what was coming, or would it devour me whole? Chapter 14: Sunniva and the Scroll of Archanographica Several weeks after Sunniva arrived in the world of Dominance, the Arcanographica scroll intrigued her more than anything else. It was the key to unlocking something deeper¡ªa power that had shaped this world for centuries. She managed to obtain a copy of the scroll from the historian¡¯s office, and now she sat alone in her room. Before her, spread out on the worn wooden table, lay the ancient scrolls. The ink twisted into forgotten symbols¡ªsymbols that no one in this world could understand. But now, she could. Her hands trembled slightly as she traced the edges of the scroll. What lay within these words could turn the tides of kingdoms. But for Sunniva, this wasn¡¯t about ruling or power for power¡¯s sake. It was about survival. And in this world, survival meant holding onto secrets no one else could even dream of uncovering. She had spent weeks decoding these runes using a method she knew well from her own world. While historians like Leon and Marco wasted time analyzing every curve and connection in the symbols, overcomplicating the meanings, she approached it differently¡ªsimpler, smarter. She had once cracked Jejemon writing, which to the untrained eye appeared like nonsensical garble, but with enough familiarity, the chaos could resolve into something simple and coherent. It was exactly the same here. ¡°They think everything has meaning,¡± she muttered, shaking her head as she glanced over at the historians¡¯ copious notes. ¡°That¡¯s their problem.¡± Take the symbol ¡®4,¡¯ for example. In this world, historians had linked it to countless interpretations¡ªspirituality, the four elements, or even unity. They drowned in theories. But to Sunniva, it was as simple as Jejemon. Just like how the number ¡®4¡¯ in her world¡¯s cryptic language meant ¡®A,¡¯ here, the ¡®4¡¯ stood for something just as straightforward. She smirked. ¡°It''s all about context.¡± Where the historians might see ¡®|? 7#3 ?????? ?= ???1?4??3¡¯ as a dense and obscure phrase, Sunniva saw its structure for what it was¡ªa puzzle easily solved once you stripped away the unnecessary complexity. Like in Jejemon, where ¡®7¡¯ could mean ¡®L,¡¯ and ¡®2¡¯ could form part of ¡®R,¡¯ the symbols here in the Arcanographica shifted based on their usage. They weren''t static; they flexed, depending on their purpose. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "This scroll isn''t as difficult as it seems," she whispered. "It only becomes complicated when you try to read too much into it. The real challenge is how to read it. Some parts are in a chaotic order, while others follow a straightforward top-to-bottom format." Sunniva¡¯s eyes flicked rapidly between symbols as she pieced them together. She¡¯d cracked another sequence¡ªanother layer of the scroll. The historians were looking for hidden meanings, while she was stripping everything down to its bare essentials. The patterns emerged, familiar and manageable, and she could feel the thrill of understanding settle in her bones. She transcribed the work and organized it according to the right order. 1. ???3?, ?34??7#, 4?? ????3. ?????? 7#3 ?16#7?? ??46?? ?4? 7?????? #4?3 4?? ??3=7 83#1??. |, ?#? ?8741?3? 7#3 =?7??3 4?? 7#3 ?457, ??3=7 4 ?13?3 7? ?34?3 7#?? ?47# 47 7#3 3?? ?= ??? 83471?6 #34?7. Power, wealth, and love. Only the mighty dragon can truly have and left behind. I, who obtained the future and the past, left a piece to weave thy path at the end of my beating heart. 2. ????3 ?17#??7 ?34??7# 15 #4??, ?34??7# ?17#??7 ???3? 15 ????, 4?? ???3? ?17#??7 ????3 15 ?34|<. ¨“#3 ?16#7?? ??46?? =???? 17 7?? ??473. ???53 =??3?3? 4?? ??34?3 7#3 ???3? 5? 6?347 7#47 ?? ?4? ?4? 3?3? 74|<3. Love without wealth is hard, wealth without power is poor, and power without love is weak. The mighty dragon found it too late. Lose forever and leave the power so great that no man can ever take. 3. ?34??7# 4?? ???3? 7#47 ???57 7#31? ?34?1?6 45 7#3 ?16#7?? ??46?? ????|<3? =?? #15 ????3 7#47 ???53 =??3?3?. |, ?#? 6?1?3 4?? 3?7??573? 175 ???3?, =???? 7#3 ?34?1?6 ?= ??1=3 8?7 ?4??5 ?17# ??? =??3?3?. Wealth and power that lost their meaning as the mighty dragon looked for his love that lose forever. I, who guide and entrusted its power, found the meaning of life but pays with my forever. Now that she managed to transcribe the first three scrolls, she then combined them with three scrolls that the historians had already transcribed. 4: ???? ?#1??? ?#? ???53 7#3 ?34?1?6 ?= #15 ??1=3. ?4?¡¯7 347, ?4?¡¯7 5??33?, 45 1= ???53? 1? 7#3 ?457 ??1=3. ?17# 7#3 ???3? ?= 7#3 ?16#7?? ??3, ?3 ????|< =?? ¡®7#3 ??3¡¯ 5? 4 ?33? 5??33? ?4? ??3????3. Poor child who lose the meaning of his life. Can¡¯t eat, can¡¯t sleep, as if cursed in the past life. With the power of the mighty one, we look for ¡®the one¡¯ so a deep sleep can overcome. 5: ???3? 7#47 5?4773?3? 1? 3?3??? ?34??? ?#3? 7#3 6?347 ??46?? ???57 #15 #34?7 4?? ?1??. @ 5?4?|< 5????73? 4?? ??34?3 83#1?? 4 ?3? ??1=3 7#47 =???3? =??? #15 ?351?3. Power that scattered in every realm when the great dragon lost his heart and mind. A spark sprouted and leave behind a new life that formed from his desire. 6: ???57 5???? ?#? ????|< 7#?? ???4?3, 74|<3 4 ?13?3 4?? 6?1?3 ?17# 4 6??1??53. ??37 7#3 6?347 ??46?? 6?4?? ????? ???4?3 4?? 17 ?1???? 5#?? ???? 7#3 ?16#7=??? 5?4?3. Lost soul who look thy place, take a piece and guide with a glimpse. Let the great dragon guard your place and it will show you the rightful space. As the words slowly coalesced under her gaze, the passage unfolded into something deep. It spoke of love and power that was hidden away, maybe because of the danger it posess. If someone found the power and knew how to wield it, the balance of power in this world would never be the same again. And yet, it could maybe save her. Sunniva leaned back, the thrill of her discovery pulsing through her. Every word she unlocked made her more dangerous. It wasn¡¯t just about staying alive anymore; it was about staying ahead of everyone else. With every stroke of her pen, she became more valuable, more irreplaceable. As long as no one knew how much she had uncovered, no one would suspect her true intentions. ¡°They think this is all about power,¡± she said, a faint smile playing on her lips, ¡°but they have no idea what¡¯s buried in these words.¡± Rolling up the scroll, she let out a long breath. Tomorrow, she would continue. I may be able to decode more, but I still don''t understand some symbols. Tomorrow, she would decode more, and perhaps¡ªjust perhaps¡ªshe¡¯d find the key to escaping this world entirely. But for now, she had to stay in the game, and no one could know how far ahead she already was. Chapter 15: Learn the heart The meeting room was thick with a heavy silence, the kind that settles when a grave topic is broached. The prince leaned forward, his gaze piercing, and finally broke the silence with a question that cut through the tension like a knife. ¡°So, what is this love that everyone speaks of with such reverence?¡± His voice was laced with cold curiosity, as though love were some quaint superstition, unworthy of his time. His question reverberated through the room, leaving everyone momentarily stunned and uncertain. Leon, the first to recover, spoke hesitantly. ¡°I¡­ I think it¡¯s another type of power that Your Highness needs to obtain to successfully harness the power of the dragon.¡± His words carried the weight of the subject, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation. The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed, his focus unwavering. ¡°Power?¡± His voice was soft but dangerous. ¡°You¡¯re saying there¡¯s a power out there that I don¡¯t already possess?¡± His gaze settled on Leon, watching him squirm. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re mistaken, or perhaps you¡¯re not explaining it well.¡± Leon hesitated, glancing toward Marco for support. ¡°I believe the deposed prince might have known where it¡¯s located, Your Highness. If we could extract more information from him¡ª¡± The prince swiftly cut him off, his tone hardening. ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± Marco blinked, clearly taken aback. Nixon, the prince''s secretary, chimed in with a dispassionate tone. ¡°The deposed prince was found dead in his cage a few hours after the interrogation. It appears he was weaker than anticipated.¡± The room was filled with tension, and everyone could feel the heavy pressure of the situation. The prince leaned back, his expression contemplative, though his eyes flickered with cold anger. ¡°So, the one man who might¡¯ve had the answer is gone? Convenient.¡± He paused, the silence in the room crackling with tension. ¡°The prince mentioned that it¡¯s something I¡¯ll never know or learn. It¡¯s not something tangible like this scroll. It¡¯s something that must be attained.¡± "There''s nothing to worry about. I believe his highness can easily attain it." Nixon¡¯s confidence was undeterred. ¡°But the deposed prince said it was impossible for His Highness to learn,¡± I interjected, drawing a sharp look from Nixon. ¡°His Highness is adept at mastering any weapon, leading our warriors, enforcing the law, and grasping political complexities. There¡¯s nothing he cannot understand,¡± Nixon defended passionately, though his fervor made me roll my eyes inwardly. ¡°There is one thing,¡± I said, despite Leo¡¯s warning taps on my shin. ¡°His Highness can¡¯t read the Arcanographica.¡± The room fell into an uneasy silence, all eyes turning toward me with a mix of confusion and apprehension. The prince, however, laughed¡ªa cold, bitter sound that echoed through the sterile room. ¡°So, what are you implying?¡± he asked, his voice laced with a teasing edge, though there was something darker underneath¡ªan amusement that came from mocking a wound that refused to heal. ¡°What I mean is that love might be similar to Arcanographica for you, Your Highness,¡± I said, meeting his gaze with a defiant stare. ¡°You can¡¯t hold it or read it, but it¡¯s something you can learn if you put your mind into it.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Tuk, I think it¡¯s a different¡ª¡± ¡°I see, that makes sense,¡± the prince suddenly agreed, nodding as if I had unveiled some profound truth. His voice, however, carried a chilling calmness. ¡°YOUR HIGHNESS!!¡± Nixon and Leon exclaimed in shock, their voices filled with disbelief. The prince leaned back, his expression more curious than before. ¡°I know Richard well enough from the reports. He wouldn¡¯t have made such statements without reason. He must have investigated me as thoroughly as I did him. But I believe someone here already knows how to learn the heart.¡± His gaze settled on me, the nickname falling from his lips like a taunt. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Little Lark?¡± ¡°Please, Your Highness, call me Tuk,¡± I said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile. ¡°And I¡¯m not the only one who knows the heart. It¡¯s something everyone understands as they grow up.¡± My statement was met with blank stares, the men appearing more bewildered than enlightened. ¡°I mean, you all must have at least one person you love, right?¡± I tried again, feeling like I was trying to teach a dinosaur to swim. ¡°So it¡¯s about a person,¡± Marco murmured, as if the idea had only just occurred to him. ¡°I see, it¡¯s about someone,¡± Rowell and Leon echoed, their faces reflecting a mix of realization and confusion. Nixon and the prince remained silent, their expressions stuck somewhere between deep thought and utter bewilderment. Are they serious? ¡°So who is this person?¡± the prince asked, his tone grave as if we were discussing state secrets and not the simple concept of affection. Oh, god! This is so frustrating! Keep it together, Tuk, patience, patience. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a case-by-case basis, Your Highness. Love comes in many forms, whether platonic or romantic. However, the first type of love everyone should experience is parental love¡ªsomething you feel through your parents.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The silence that followed was so awkward it could have been cut with a knife and served as the main course at this absurd meeting. ¡°I¡¯m sure your parents loved you, right? Showered you with care and affection?¡± ¡°I think my parents never did such a thing,¡± Leon replied thoughtfully, leading the others to share his realization. An air of emptiness seemed to fill the room. ¡°Same here.¡± ¡°Really? So how did your parents create you?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but let some sarcasm slip out, but their earnest responses nearly knocked me out of my chair. ¡°Well, it¡¯s necessary to consummate to give birth to a son. Once we¡¯re born, we have roles to fulfill. If more sons are born at the same time, they fight over who is best suited to lead, while the rest become warriors, officials, or servants,¡± Marco explained matter-of-factly as if discussing the weather. Ah, right! This isn¡¯t my world, but surely affection must exist somewhere. ¡°How about your mother? Surely she took care of you as a child?¡± I pressed, desperately searching for a glimmer of normalcy. ¡°My mother tried to kill me when I was seven, so I killed her.¡± The prince¡¯s blunt admission hit me like a ton of bricks. "I¡­I am sure not everyone kills their mother, right?" ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t kill mine, but most women either die fighting each other, kill themselves, or run away,¡± Marco¡¯s calm response was the final nail in the coffin of my sanity. These people are hopeless. Not just them, but everyone in this world! No wonder they¡¯re all such a mess. ¡°I... see. Then let¡¯s forget about parental love and just focus on affectionate or romantic love. Does everyone here have someone they love?¡± I asked, raising my hand like I was in school, hoping someone, anyone, would follow suit. But no, not a single hand joined mine. ¡°So no one has a romantic relationship either?¡± I pressed, my frustration boiling over. ¡°Are you all made of stone? Don¡¯t you feel any desire to care for someone, to protect and understand them better? To adore someone and do anything to win their affection?¡± Nixon¡¯s thoughtful murmur broke through the silence. ¡°Hmm¡­ If you put it that way, I can only think of one person.¡± His implication made my stomach twist. ¡°Does that mean I love you, Your Highness?¡± His declaration hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me reeling. ''Let me kill his love.'' I wanted to jump to my feet and punch Nixon, but my urge was barely restrained. Instead, I forced a tight-lipped smile. ¡°I believe what Lord Nixon feels is called devotion or fealty,¡± I said, the sarcasm practically dripping from my words. The right term for it is veneration, I added mentally, seeing how Nixon practically viewed the prince with sacred respect, despite him being this dominant. The prince¡¯s voice cut through the silence, low and deliberate. "Interesting. If it can be learned, then it can be mastered. And you seem to know about love better than anyone here." He nodded decisively. ¡°You¡¯ll teach me about love then. I¡¯ll make you my love advisor.¡± ''Wait, what? Did I hear that right?'' The most powerful man in the kingdom just appointed me... his love advisor? I mean, that¡¯s fine and all, but how can I teach someone about love when I am an asexual person? My mission had taken a bizarre turn¡ªbecoming a love advisor to a prince who was utterly clueless about affection. The thought alone made me chuckle bitterly. What''s with this sudden turn of romance? I needed a plan, a new approach to teach him about love logically¡ªan uphill battle as impossible as taming a dragon. That day marked the beginning of a journey I never saw coming¡ªone that would change my life forever and maybe, just maybe, teach me what it really means to love and be loved. Chapter 16: The Conquest of Love --The Prince POV-- Water dripped in steady, rhythmic silence, each drop falling into the bath with an almost taunting patience. The prince stared at his reflection, half-submerged in the tepid water, his gaze cold and unblinking. His well-toned body glistened as water flowed down his chest, muscles taut with frustration. With a sharp flick, he swept his damp hair away from his face, but the motion brought no relief. The irritation gnawed at him, deepening with each passing moment. Above him, stars twinkled in the dark night, mocking him with their calm. Michaelli''s jaw tightened as he looked beyond the bath, his eyes locked on the distant sky. The peaceful scene was an insult to the turmoil that roiled within him. His body, full of vigor and energy, demanded an outlet¡ªan all-consuming restlessness he couldn''t ignore. Every fiber of his being burned with frustration, the pressure building inside him, forcing him to release it as soon as possible. That insolent man. Michaelli''s thoughts darkened further, his lips curling in silent contempt. He had been lucky¡ªunbearably lucky. Were it not for his knowledge, the prince would have had no hesitation in ending him, right there with his own hands. The fact that he was still breathing only intensified Michaelli¡¯s irritation, each drop of water echoing his restrained anger. His fingers gripped the edge of the bath, knuckles whitening as his mind spun. That little bird had tested him, and though Michaelli had laughed, he could feel the bitter taste of wounded pride lingering in the back of his throat. The memories of earlier events clawed their way back to the surface. The question I pose¡ª¡°What is this love everyone speaks of?¡±¡ªhangs in the air like a blade poised to strike. My court is silent, paralyzed, unsure of how to navigate the depths of this new, seemingly trivial inquiry. But nothing is trivial when it concerns my empire, my rule, and my power. I lean forward, my eyes fixed on Leon, watching his discomfort grow under the weight of my gaze. He stumbles through his words, calling love a ¡°type of power.¡± Power. Now that¡¯s a language I speak fluently. But this kind of power, one that cannot be seen or held¡ªit¡¯s frustrating. Power must be understood. I thrive on knowing how to use everything to my advantage, and this notion of love as something elusive is intolerable. How can there be a form of strength that I do not possess? It irritates me, but also ignites something deeper¡ªa challenge. If love is a weapon, then I will master it, like every other weapon I¡¯ve wielded. Then comes Nixon¡¯s announcement about Richard. Dead. Useless. He should have put a physician near him. The one man who may have known something about this heart has been snuffed out. Convenient for him, but an inconvenience for me. I don¡¯t waste time on feelings of loss or regret. His death only reminds me that even my court, my men, can miscalculate. Nixon¡¯s praise falls flat. Praise is worthless in the face of failure. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. A sharp breath escaped Michaelli¡¯s lips as the cold water sloshed around him. His irritation deepened with the memory of how effortlessly Richard slipped from his grasp, leaving only a void of information. But that void was filled with something else: Tuk. And Tuk, bold as he was, had dared to claim that Michaelli did not understand love. I shift my attention to Tuk, who boldly states the one thing no one else in this room dares to utter: I don¡¯t understand love. And worse, he compares it to the Arcanographica¡ªthe one riddle I haven¡¯t yet solved. The laugh that escapes my lips is bitter and cold. There¡¯s audacity in Tuk¡¯s words, and for that, I almost admire him. But it¡¯s also an insult, a challenge. He thinks he knows something I don¡¯t? Then I will learn it, prove him wrong, and crush this arrogance with ease. I had allowed that insolent laugh to escape my lips, but inside, I already plotted. Tuk¡¯s words had struck a chord¡ªnot of fear, but of intrigue. His defiance was something I could use. No man challenges me without suffering the consequences, but Tuk... He had the knowledge I needed. His comparison of love to the Arcanographica suggested that both could be decoded and understood. And if that were true, love could be controlled. The others are useless in this conversation. These men of historians, strategy, and duty¡ªare completely out of their depth. I feel a familiar surge of contempt for their lack of insight. They can barely fathom the concept of love, let alone comprehend it. Tuk stands alone in his understanding, which makes him valuable. For now. And then, my past¡ªso casually revealed. My mother¡¯s death is a fact, not a burden. Tuk¡¯s reaction, however, shows he still believes in bonds that go beyond necessity. He doesn¡¯t understand. Love, family¡ªthese things are merely stepping stones to power, to survival. I killed because it was required. "Your Highness, everything has been prepared," said the shadow of his warrior, appearing before him. I stand, preparing to go out in my bathrobe. Love didn¡¯t save me; strength did. Yet, here Tuk stands, trying to explain a concept I¡¯ve dismissed all my life. His frustration is amusing. This world¡¯s lack of love surprises him, but why would we waste time on something so intangible? If love has value, it¡¯s only as a tool. If there¡¯s something to be learned from it, I¡¯ll learn it and use it to my advantage. The room was dim, lit only by the flicker of a lone candle casting long, wavering shadows across the prince¡¯s face. He sat at a grand mahogany desk cluttered with forbidden volumes, scrolls, and loose, yellowed pages¡ªall filled with tales and theories of love, a subject banished from the empire''s walls long ago. Now, by his order, they¡¯d been unearthed, acquired from every corner of the known world. Hours ticked by, and his reading grew fervent, each page drawn closer to the light as he studied in grim silence. Night after night, he devoured stories of lovers separated by wars, the binding vows of ancient rulers, the heartaches of scholars and warriors. And with every tale he consumed, the shadows on his face seemed to deepen. His jaw clenched as he turned to yet another account, this one more raw and heart-wrenching than the last. Finally, he leaned back, staring blankly into the depths of his chamber. "So this is love." he muttered, his voice laced with scorn. The words lingered in the air, brittle, hollow. Love was nothing he hadn¡¯t seen before¡ªnothing he didn¡¯t understand. But he had long since discarded it, exiled it to the edges of his mind where it could fester in silence. And yet, tonight, it crawled back, refusing to be ignored. His hands trembled as he crumpled the paper in his grasp, an old ache pulsing in his chest. Love was not a feeling he wanted to rekindle, but a force he wished to wield¡ªa power that could break, subdue, or manipulate, like any other weapon. With love, he could twist the desires of those around him, and make them bow willingly to his ambitions. His gaze settled on the far wall, where shadows danced with a sinister grace. There was a secret buried in the darkness, one that tugged at the edges of his mind. It turns out he¡¯d known it for years, hidden it even from himself. But here, in this midnight solitude, as he sat amidst these forbidden texts, the truth gnawed at him. It wasn¡¯t just power he sought¡ªit was a power he feared, one that had broken and reshaped him long ago. "Love is not what I want," he whispered harshly to the empty room. "It¡¯s merely the path. Power is what I desire." Chapter 17: On Our Own Goals It''s been almost three weeks since we returned from Homonhon Palace, where we historians were dragged into copying ancient writings. Why couldn¡¯t we have done that after the war? If this was just another whim of the prince, I¡¯d love to punch him for it! As soon as we got back, the others started painstakingly translating the scrolls, their suspicion about the order growing with every symbol they transcribed. But they¡¯re doing their best, cross-referencing each line, trying to make sense of the ancient writing. The problem is, they don¡¯t have the advantage I do. No one could¡¯ve predicted that my knowledge of Jejemon text from my world would help here, even me. In fact I learned that the scrolls share that same bizarre complexity, almost like Egyptian hieroglyphics. Some read from top to bottom, but sometimes you start on the left side and sometimes on the right, adding more difficulty to it. Where they struggle, I decode with ease. My background makes these symbols familiar, and that gives me a massive advantage¡ªone I intend to keep hidden. Jejemon might have been mocked back home, but here, it could unlock the words beyond imagination. I glance around at my fellow historians, all intensely focused. The final scroll is now in our hands, and all eleven are arranged in order of retrieval, awaiting full translation so they can grasp the power they hold. All of this, without anyone knowing, is something I am about to finish, including the true arrangement of the scrolls and their proper order¡ªbefore we even returned to the empire of Marceau. But the frustrating thing is, I don''t have the power to do anything about it. I have the knowledge, but I don¡¯t have the power to act. Where on earth will I find the princess again? All I can do is wait to eavesdrop on the prince''s warriors'' information. So I guess being selfishly appointed as an advisor is a good thing? Well, as if I have a choice. I can watch and learn what the prince already knows and use it for my own purposes. It¡¯s a good opportunity, but being near that man is nerve-wracking! I want to avoid him as much as possible. I can still picture his face while killing a few of the knights back during the war. That cold indifference¡­ A shiver runs down my spine. Prince Richard successfully faked his own death as we planned, but he pulled his own method different from what I had in mind. Well, as long as it worked, it¡¯s fine. I don''t want to involve myself in any politics; my life is already complicated as it is. My greatest fear didn¡¯t come to pass¡ªhe didn¡¯t sense any power from the Homonhon prince, confirming my theory: he can only detect the power tied to the scroll and its rightful owner. How he does it, I still don¡¯t know. If he had sensed ¡°the key¡± from the princess, he wouldn¡¯t have let her escape from the beginning. Now, with the prince of Marceau convinced that love is the missing piece, it¡¯ll be even harder for them to escape this misguided notion. ¡°Pfft! To think these men are so clueless about love. It makes things easier for me,¡± I grin to myself, recalling past conversations. "I should thank the past ruler who banned the word ¡®love¡¯ in this world. That king must have been hurt enough to ban it and create a stupid law about it. Tsk, money and power can really do anything, huh." "Hey, everyone, what will happen to us once we¡¯ve finished decoding these scrolls?¡± I ask absentmindedly, my chin propped on my hand as my quill scratches erratically across the paper. A cloud of uncertainty seems to hover over us. I press on, ¡°Are we going to be... disposed of? I mean, once we¡¯re no longer needed.¡± The atmosphere shifts, tension creeping in as Leon and the others exchange uneasy glances. It¡¯s Leon who finally speaks, his brow creased as he meets my gaze. ¡°Do you really think the prince is like that?¡± he asks, disbelief coloring his voice. ''Yes, Well, he did say something like that to me not too long ago. And he scratched at the grape stem, remember?'' I think sarcastically but keep it to myself. Leon continues, his voice steady. ¡°I don¡¯t know what impression you have of the prince, but we all know what he¡¯s really like when it comes to his people.¡± I notice nods of agreement from the others. ''Masochists,'' I think, slightly exasperated. ¡°He may seem cold and harsh as a leader, but in times of uncertainty, people do not seek kindness or softness¡ªthey seek stability, someone who can make the difficult decisions, who commands respect both within and beyond the empire, and we see that in His Highness.¡± "But the prince considers betrayal utterly intolerable. Those who betrayed His Highness in the past all wished that they would die instead," Rowell interjects, sending a chill down my spine. "They may still be alive till now." "W...what do you mean? Where are they now?" I ask, trying to mask the fear gnawing at me. "Somewhere in the shadows? The prince doesn''t want them to die easily. He''d rather see the full extent of their failure, stripped of everything they hoped for, including dying. So I¡¯m sure they are barely alive somewhere¡ªbut not from here." The blood drains from my face. If the prince found out about my recent actions at Homonhon Palace... I can''t let him know what I did. I absolutely can¡¯t! "People trust strong leaders who know what they''re doing. His words made me remember things¡ªwarriors telling stories about the prince''s bravery, their faces shining with admiration. "That''s right! I can''t speak for the others, but once our work is done, I want to become a court official," Leon said quietly but firmly. He stopped writing for a moment. "So I can keep supporting His Highness," he finally said, his voice soft but sure. My eyes widened in surprise. ''Wow, he''s really loyal! Even though he almost died from a grape stem not too long ago,'' I thought to myself. "How about you, Rowell?" I asked, wanting to change the subject. Rowell tilted his head, thinking. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "I didn''t know you wanted to be a teacher," Marco said, looking amused. Rowell just smirked. "Teach you guys anything? As I thought about their friendly talk, my heart raced, and I found it hard to breathe. Leon, Marco, Rowell... They''re good men, in their own way.If he knew the truth, what would he think of me? Would he just see me as a traitor? I shook my head, trying to forget that thought. No. I can''t let these things distract me. "What about you, Marco?" "Well, I''m a noble, so of course, I''m going to take care of things and become the lord of my house," he said, leaning back with a grin. "And you?" I stopped, thinking about my dreams for a moment ''I hope I''ll find the key and get back to my world soon. "I think I need to stay by His Highness''s side as his advisor until he learns about the heart," I finally said, trying to make it sound like an easy goal. "Hmm... now that you mention it, those really are complicated," Marco said, thinking. "No wonder it''s hard to find the power we''re looking for, but you seem to know a lot, Tuk." "Well, it''s not easy to use the power of love," I said, trying hard not to show how uncomfortable I felt. "But thanks to some people I knew, I learned a few things before they, uh, died." The truth behind that statement hit me harder than I expected, and I forced a smile to hide how I really felt. ''Ugh! I feel so cringy making up these stories!'' I looked at the others, who seemed to believe my vague explanation for now, and in my mind, I sighed with relief.I was the love advisor with no personal experience of romantic love. "Now that I think about it, Sir Leon, why did the prince believe the power came from the heart of the scroll''s owner?" I asked, resting my chin in my hand as my quill moved lazily across the paper. Leon stopped writing, frowning slightly as he thought. "Hmm... now that you mention it, I don''t think you were here when we talked about those ideas." He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "The more we figure out the scroll, the more we see the word ''heart.'' He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Some smart people even suggested looking at the hearts of the scroll''s owners¡ªthinking one of them might have a piece of the dragon''s heart. But as you can guess, no proof... yet." "But wouldn''t a dragon''s heart be too big for a person to have? Leon blinked at me, surprised by the question, as if I''d said something strange. "Wait... you don''t know? The dragon isn''t just some huge beast. It''s more like a force that creates things, a power that gives life to the world. I hesitated for a second; I didn''t think what I just asked was a stupid question to them. "I''m sorry to hear that. But Leon just looked at me, his face not showing what he was thinking. I blinked, trying to understand this new information. So, the dragon wasn''t a fire-breathing monster¡ªit was more like a god? That was a lot to take in, but in this world, I shouldn''t have been surprised. "Are there more dragons out there?" Leon chuckled, shaking his head. "There''s only one. They say its power was spread throughout the world after the Great Fall. Before I could react, the door suddenly opened, and in walked Lord Nixon, the prince''s private secretary. He looked around, as if searching for someone. Our eyes met, and I froze. "Historian Tuk," he said coldly. "His Highness the Prince is looking for you." Me? Why? Just kill me now, she thought, staring at the door ahead, which felt more like a door to her doom than an entrance to the prince''s office. "Please be busy... Please be busy..." she silently hoped, but the prince''s voice broke her hopes. "Come in." Lord Nixon opened the door, but Tuk''s feet felt stuck to the floor. Damn it! The angry look from Nixon jolted her back. "What are you waiting for? Come in, historian," he said sharply. With a grunt, she pinched her legs, forcing them to move forward. "G...Greetings to the little sun of the empire. The prince waved Nixon away as if he was just a bother. Tuk wanted to grab onto him, desperate for anyone to be between her and the prince, but no amount of humor or tricks could save her now. "Sit," the prince ordered, pointing to the guest table. She hesitated before sitting near the edge of the sofa, trying to keep as far away from him as possible. "As we agreed, you''re going to be my love advisor. Tell me, how can I master the heart?" Tch, she thought. I didn''t agree to this! The words burned in her throat, but she swallowed her frustration. "T...That''s right. Thank you for this great opportunity, Your Highness," she managed to say through gritted teeth. "As you should." He sipped his tea, clearly enjoying her discomfort. If only I could punch him... Not ready for the sudden request, Tuk''s mind raced. I didn''t expect him to call me so soon. I don''t have anything prepared. What do I even say? Should I just be honest and hope he changes his mind about this crazy idea of me advising him? The prince''s voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you going to sit there and keep me waiting?" "I''m sorry, Your Highness. I was thinking about how to teach you about love." She took a breath, trying to buy more time to think. A feeling of dread washed over her as she understood the prince''s words. "I... I will do my best, Your Highness," she replied with a steady voice, masking the turmoil roiling within her. How can I search the depths of Google to convince the prince that he needs love over power, to soften him and keep him preoccupied, when I myself believe that money holds more value than love? The prince nodded, that infuriating smile still lingering on his face. Tuk''s heart pounded at the abrupt shift in topic. This isn¡¯t fair! She had to tread carefully; revealing too much could expose her vulnerabilities. "Spare me the formality, I want honesty. You¡¯re a historian; you know the importance of stories and what makes them compelling." His tone was almost encouraging, yet there was a subtle menace that made her skin prickle. He''s playing with me. Something about how intense the prince was made her nervous. What''s happening? Had he studied more about this than he let on? Either way, she was in over her head. The more this conversation goes on, the more I realize... I''m no longer fully in control of the situation. I thought I had time¡ªtime to plan, to figure out what to do next¡ªbut now I''m not so sure. I realize I''m not the only one telling lies. I thought we were following the usual story here. Aren''t I supposed to teach him how to love? I was ready to play matchmaker, but... Shit. Whatever happens next, I have a feeling that everything is about to change¡ªand I''m no longer the one in control. Chapter 18: When the Cunning Meets the Great
¡°Spare me the formality. I want your truth.¡± The prince''s voice was soft, almost coaxing, yet an undercurrent of danger made Tuk¡¯s skin prickle with unease. ¡°You¡¯re a historian, you should understand the value of stories and what makes them compelling.¡± Tuk drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his piercing gaze. ¡°There¡¯s someone I care about, yes. But love is more than just feelings; it¡¯s about shared experiences, trust, and support. It¡¯s not something you wield like a weapon.¡± ¡°Fascinating,¡± he said, leaning in slightly, his interest unmistakable. He¡¯s toying with me. ¡°So, tell me about this person. What makes them so special?¡± The air in the room felt heavier, and Tuk¡¯s mind raced as she considered her options. Should I reveal more? Or keep my guard up? It''s about my sister anyway. ¡°I suppose... they¡¯ve always supported me. They understand my passions, encourage me to pursue them,¡± she began cautiously. ¡°But love isn¡¯t just admiration. It¡¯s accepting someone¡¯s flaws, standing together through challenges.¡± The prince¡¯s expression shifted, his amusement giving way to genuine curiosity. ¡°And do you believe you could trust them completely?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The answer escaped before she could stop herself, the honesty slipping through her defenses. ¡°But trust takes time to build.¡± He chuckled softly, leaning closer, his voice a mix of amusement and menace. ¡°Time. The one thing I don¡¯t have much of. Very well, historian. Let¡¯s see how quickly you can help me build trust in my court. I expect results sooner rather than later.¡± Tuk felt a mix of relief and dread. This is only the beginning, she thought. But I can¡¯t let him use me as a pawn. ¡°Of course, Your Highness. I¡¯ll do my best,¡± she replied, determination solidifying inside her.
¡°Good. Now, let¡¯s get to work. Tell me what I need to do.¡± His eyes gleamed, sharp and calculating¡ªlike a predator cornering its prey. Tuk steadied herself, heart pounding. He isn¡¯t playing games. She could feel it now¡ªeach moment they spent together, he was tightening his grip on her, and she was running out of room to maneuver. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. If she wasn¡¯t careful, this man would unearth every secret she was desperately trying to keep buried. "If I may, Your Highness... isn¡¯t what we¡¯re doing illegal? I''ve heard that studying love is banned throughout the empire." Tuk met his gaze, her pulse racing. Michaelli¡¯s eyes flickered with amusement. "Ah, yes¡ªthe law established by my predecessor, banning the study and expression of love. It¡¯s true that in the past, such knowledge was deemed dangerous, disruptive to the empire¡¯s order. But let me make one thing clear, advisor: the laws of this empire bend to my will, not the other way around. If I, the ruler of Marceau, have chosen to study love for my own purposes, then it is no longer illegal. My word is law. And while the previous king may have feared the chaos that love could bring, I see its potential as a tool¡ªone that, under my control, can be mastered and wielded for the empire¡¯s benefit." His voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "So, advisor, rest assured: what we are doing is not only permitted but necessary. If anyone questions it, they will find themselves on the wrong side of my authority. I trust that you understand the gravity of what we are undertaking, but also the protection that comes with my favor. "Now, shall we continue? Or are there more concerns weighing on your mind?" I couldn¡¯t argue with that. Tuk¡¯s thoughts spun. This is the ruler Marco warned me about. I need to rethink my approach and understand his motivations. If this were a project of mine, the prince would be my client, and his persona doesn¡¯t match the data I¡¯ve gathered from the warriors. He¡¯s not just brute force. This is the prince that Marco mentioned¡ªa true ruler. I have to adjust my strategy and build a better connection. First, I need to assess what he knows and what he doesn¡¯t. Only then can I pinpoint the disconnect and find a solution to my own predicament.
"You seem far more knowledgeable about love than I expected, Your Highness." Tuk¡¯s voice remained calm, but inside, her pulse quickened. She could feel the danger closing in like a noose tightening around her neck. One wrong word, one slip, and he would see through her act. She forced a small smile, hiding the growing unease gnawing at her stomach. "I apologize for the rude comment I made during our meeting back in Homonhon." Michaelli''s gaze lingered on her a moment longer, his expression unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk playing at the corners of his mouth¡ªa predator watching his prey falter. Tuk felt the chill of his attention, every nerve in her body on high alert. She had to be careful now. If he realized what she was hiding, there would be no escape. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the walls themselves were closing in. "Ah, so you''ve finally realized." Prince Michaelli leans back slightly, a faint smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. His golden eyes fixed on Tuk, sharp and calculating, weighing her every word. "Apologies are easy to offer, but understanding takes more time. You thought me ignorant, didn''t you?" He rises slowly, each movement deliberate, and steps closer. His gaze never wavers as he tilts his head, examining her like a puzzle he''s almost finished solving.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Love is no different from war, Tuk. Strategy, deception, vulnerability¡ªall tools at my disposal. It''s amusing that you assumed I''d be blind to its uses just because it was forbidden." His smirk widens as he stops just in front of her, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. "So tell me, what else did you miscalculate?" She flinched inwardly. Stay calm. He¡¯s just testing you. Don¡¯t make the same mistake again. "To be honest, Your Highness, when you asked, ''What is love?'' and I saw how the other historians reacted when I mentioned it back in Homonhon, I thought that the people of the Marceau Empire didn¡¯t know about love¡ªsince it was banned so long ago. If I may ask without being rude, did Your Highness begin studying it after learning about the heart from the Prince of Homonhon?" Prince Michaelli''s eyes narrow slightly, his smirk fading into something more contemplative. He doesn''t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make me feel its weight. "You¡¯re not entirely wrong," he says, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of amusement. "The people of Marceau were deprived of love for generations. It was purged from our language, our history, our very way of life. But," he steps closer to Tuk his gaze grows sharper, "you underestimate me if you think I would rely solely on the ramblings of a foreign prince to grasp its meaning." His fingers lightly tap his chin as he continues, "What the Prince of Homonhon said about the heart¡­ it sparked my curiosity. But curiosity alone doesn¡¯t lead to understanding. I¡¯ve studied it¡ªmore than anyone here would dare to admit. And I¡¯ve seen how love can be manipulated, how it can be used as a weapon or a shield." His eyes flicker with intensity, as if seeing far beyond the present. "Tell me, Tuk¡ªdid you think you could teach me something I haven¡¯t already considered?" His voice lowers, a challenge in his tone. "Did you hope to control me with a concept I¡¯ve come to understand better than those who claim to cherish it?" Tuk stood frozen, her pulse echoing in her ears. Only one word came to mind: Shit.
Tuk¡¯s forced her hands to stay still in her lap, even as her fingers trembled with the weight of his words. It took every ounce of self-control to keep her voice steady while her mind screamed at her to run. But there was no escape¡ªnot from a man like Michaelli. "No, of course not, Your Highness! I would never dare. My intention was only to understand how much you know about it. I¡¯m curious about your perception of love, because teaching someone how to love is a complex and delicate task. Love is deeply personal, shaped by individual experiences, emotions, and understanding." ''Of course, he''d have to stand so close. Did no one in this world understand personal space? Prince Charming, he was not!'' Prince Michaelli watches Tuk closely, a flicker of amusement crossing his face at the sudden shift in her tone. But Tuk remains still, keeping her posture steady, even as her mind races. The prince takes a step back, as if granting the historian a moment of reprieve, yet his golden eyes remain fixed on her, measuring her words. "How thoughtful of you, Tuk," he says softly, though there¡¯s an unmistakable edge to his voice. "You¡¯re right¡ªlove is personal, complex, and delicate, as you put it. But it¡¯s also dangerous, unpredictable. For centuries, my empire has shunned it, not because we feared it¡­ but because we understood its potential to unravel everything." He folds his arms across his chest, his eyes darkening as he continues. "You think love, pure and unmanipulated, has a place in this world?" Michaelli¡¯s lips curled into a cold smile. "Love makes people irrational, blinds them to reality. It pushes them to sacrifice everything¡ªkingdoms, empires, lives¡ªwithout a second thought. Why would I surrender myself to such a force when I can wield it against others? It¡¯s not love that destroys¡ªit¡¯s those who don''t know how to harness it." A long pause follows, and then Michaelli leans in slightly, his gaze intense. "You see, Tuk, I don¡¯t need to feel love to control it. Understanding how others perceive it¡ªhow they¡¯re driven by it¡ªis enough. And that¡¯s why I¡¯m curious about you." He studies my reaction for a moment before adding, "You say it¡¯s delicate, shaped by experiences¡­ But tell me, what experience do you have with love?" His voice is almost teasing now, but the challenge is clear.
Tuk felt a pang in her chest. She has never experienced love herself, and the prince''s ideals about it mirror her own. She can see her reflection in him. They share the same vision of love since she watched everyone around her ruin themselves with it. ''But I won¡¯t let you dig deeper into my past.'' Tuk thought. "I understand your curiosity, Your Highness, but I don¡¯t believe my experience with love is particularly relevant here. After all, I¡¯m not the one seeking to understand the heart or desiring the dragon¡¯s power." She say humbly, maintaining a dignified expression. "My role is different, so it¡¯s not necessary for me to have that experience. Now that you know the power love holds, what will you do when you need to learn how to love? Of course, I¡¯m talking about love without a hint of deception or manipulation." Prince Michaelli¡¯s eyes flash with a mix of intrigue and challenge at her words. He remains silent for a moment, contemplating the historian''s response, before letting out a low chuckle, though there¡¯s no warmth in it. "Ah, Tuk, ever so clever." His tone is smooth, almost playful, but there¡¯s a coldness beneath the surface. "You dance around the question, avoiding the heart of it, while suggesting that I¡¯m somehow incomplete without experiencing love in its purest form¡ªuntainted by manipulation or deception." The prince steps closer, his gaze never leaving the historian, and his voice drops to a whisper, though the intensity remains. "Do you think that makes love more powerful, more true? I wonder¡­ Why would I ever need to surrender myself to such a force, stripped of my defenses, leaving myself vulnerable like a fool?" Straightening, his eyes narrow as if weighing her words "To answer your question¡ªif I needed to learn how to love without deception, without manipulation, I would treat it as I would any weapon: with precision, strategy, and control. But¡­" he pauses, his smirk returning, "love without those things is like stepping onto a battlefield without armor. Do you truly think I would do that, Tuk?" He watches the historian carefully before continuing, "Or perhaps you believe you can teach me this ''pure'' version of love. I wonder, Tuk¡ªwhat¡¯s your real goal in this? Are you so curious, or is it something more?" Every word Michaelli spoke was a reminder that he was playing a game far more dangerous than she could have imagined. But it was the way his golden eyes seemed to linger on her, as if he already knew¡­ As if he had known all along. Tuk swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Could he already suspect? Was this all a test? "My only goal is to help Your Highness achieve what you seek. That¡¯s why we historians continue transcribing the scroll as swiftly as possible. I¡¯ll never forget how you saved my life from the Emperor. But now that I understand your views on love... I can¡¯t help but wonder what specific value you saw in me for this appointment, Your Highness, especially when it¡¯s clear you already possess so much knowledge on the matter." Tuk added, meeting the prince¡¯s gaze, "You already seem to know a great deal¡ªeven studying it despite the ban." Prince Michaelli¡¯s expression softened ever so slightly, though the calculating gleam in his eyes remained. He clasped his hands behind his back, stepping closer, as if sharing a secret meant only for Tuk¡¯s ears. "You misunderstand," he began, his voice low but laced with certainty. "I didn¡¯t appoint you as my love advisor because I needed your knowledge. I did it because I needed you." He watched her carefully, each word deliberate. "You¡¯ve proven yourself resourceful, cunning, and unpredictable¡ªqualities I value far more than any understanding of love." The prince turns away for a moment, pacing slowly as if gathering his thoughts. "The historians continue to serve a purpose in this grand game of ours, transcribing the scrolls, unraveling secrets. But you, Tuk, are more than that. You think differently¡ªyou think like me." His golden eyes flicker back to the historian, sharp as ever. ''Is that an insult?'' She muttered to herself. "Your appointment wasn¡¯t about teaching me love, no. It was about positioning you close enough to see what others miss. You¡¯re a strategist in your own right, and I suspect that¡¯s what makes you uncomfortable¡ªknowing that this role I¡¯ve given you isn¡¯t about love at all, but about power." He stops in front of her, the smirk returning. "You say you wish to help me achieve what I seek? Then continue to play your part, Tuk. There¡¯s much more to this game than love¡ªand you¡¯re far too valuable to waste on simple matters of the heart." Tuk blinks, barely breathing from her seat. Her thoughts spiral. She can see the invisible chain trapping her, but she cannot do anything to avoid it. She is trapped. To be isekai¡¯d in another world? Sure, I can accept that. Go to war? Okay, I barely survived that. But to be in this kind of situation with this kind of prince? Can I at least have a prince from one of those romance-fantasy novels? Sure, he looks like those hot princes, but he¡¯s too terrifying! At this rate, he¡¯s bound to discover my true identity sooner or later. It feels like he¡¯s igniting my candle of life, and the more time I spend with him, the faster the wax melts away. I might end up dead in this story without anyone knowing my tale. Please, can someone just hit a truck already and possess my body? I''d be happy to trade our souls rather than wither away in this man''s hands. Chapter 19: Lets Do the Shembot Party! "Ah¡­ I need a drink,¡± Tuk muttered to herself, staring blankly at the moon. She was slouched on a stone bench in the open-air garden, the cool night breeze doing little to calm the whirlwind in her mind. Her conversation with the prince still echoed in her thoughts, leaving her both stunned and exasperated. She had known Prince Michaelli was sharp, but this? The man was a genius in everything! "Does he even have a weakness?" Tuk groaned at the moon, her frustration bubbling over. She leaned back, her spine curving against the bench as she threw her arms over her head in surrender. "Am I supposed to just keep up with him? What does he even want from me?" She replayed his cryptic words over and over. He had said her appointment wasn¡¯t just about teaching him ¡®love.¡¯ No, it was about positioning her close enough to see what others missed. Strategist? Tuk scoffed at the thought. I¡¯ve been strategizing how to not get killed since I got here. How¡¯s that working out for me? Her head throbbed from all the thinking. She rubbed her temples, squinting up at the moon. "I need to stop overthinking and start drinking," she declared. But where? She couldn¡¯t leave the palace grounds without permission, and the towering walls around her felt like they were mocking her. ¡°Spider-Man wouldn¡¯t even get up those,¡± she muttered. Her eyes lit up. Wait¡­ the kitchen! There¡¯s bound to be something there! Tuk made her way to the servant¡¯s kitchen, weaving through the corridors like a mischievous thief. When she finally arrived, she shamelessly used the prince¡¯s name to nab a bottle of liquor from an unsuspecting servant. But one sip of the harsh liquid made her gag. It burned all the way down, hitting her stomach like a fist. "Ugh," she groaned, setting the bottle down with distaste. "No wonder men drink this stuff. They¡¯ve got guts made of iron." She glanced at the fruit juice on the table next to the bottle and an idea struck her like lightning. A grin split her face. "Why didn¡¯t I think of this sooner?" With renewed energy, Tuk scrambled around the kitchen, snatching up a pitcher and a spoon. As she worked, she noticed a servant using some kind of mechanical device to ignite the stove. Her eyes widened in delight. It looked suspiciously like a lighter. "Oh, this is perfect!" she muttered, sidling up to the startled kitchen staff. "Mind if I borrow this for a bit?" The servant blinked. "That¡¯s... only for kitchen use, my lord."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Well, it¡¯s for the prince," she replied, not missing a beat. Before they could argue, Tuk swiped the small gadget and darted back to her table, grinning like a child with a stolen toy. ¡°Welcome to the isekai world, shembot,¡± Tuk cackled to herself, gleefully mixing the fruit juice with the liquor. She worked with the reckless precision of a mad scientist, tossing in a block of ice after smoothly ¡®borrowing¡¯ it with another mention of the prince. As she shook the concoction, her mind buzzed. Is this the power the prince was talking about? she thought, barely containing her laughter. Her wild cocktail-making was interrupted by the sound of boots approaching. Tuk didn¡¯t stop her furious shaking as a group of warriors entered the kitchen hall. "Hey, historian! What are you doing?" one of the warriors called out. Tuk squinted at him, trying to place the face. "Who?" The man laughed. "Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve forgotten me already! It¡¯s Bucky, the machete. We fought together, remember?" Recognition clicked in Tuk¡¯s brain. "Ah! The red cape guy!" She stopped shaking the bottle long enough to bow her head dramatically. "Thank you for saving my life, mighty warrior." (A/N: The one who saved her during the war) Bucky waved it off with a laugh. "No need for all that. I¡¯m more interested in what you¡¯re doing. Celebrating something?" Tuk grinned slyly, her eyes glittering with mischief. "Oh, just a little something. I¡¯ve been assigned as the prince¡¯s new love advisor. So, I thought, why not toast to that, huh?" The warriors exchanged confused glances. "That¡¯s¡­ good news?" Bucky ventured, though the hesitant tone in his voice made Tuk chuckle. "Oh, it¡¯s something, alright." She slammed the ice block against the table, shattering it into pieces and sending a few shards flying. Bucky and the others jumped back, eyes wide. Tuk ignored them, dumping the ice into the pitcher with a flourish. "Join me?" Tuk asked, her tone playful as she poured the liquor into the ewer, igniting it with the lighter. The flames danced momentarily before she blew them out, making Bucky''s jaw drop. "W-wait! You¡¯re letting the spirit escape!" Bucky protested, his eyes glued to the smoldering bottle. "Exactly." Tuk winked, smirking as she poured the concoction into their mugs. "I¡¯m not allowed to get drunk, so I¡¯m making it less potent. Genius, right?" Bucky burst out laughing, slapping the table. "You¡¯ve got a weird brain, historian! But sure, I¡¯ll drink to that." As the warriors joined her, Tuk raised her mug with a dramatic flourish. "Now, gentlemen, you don¡¯t just chug it. You have to cheers for me first!" They blinked at her, unsure, but slowly followed her lead. "Raise your mugs! Like this," she said, holding hers up high. "And say ''Tagay!''" "TAGAY!" the warriors shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the kitchen as they clinked their mugs together. Tuk took a hearty swig and sighed in satisfaction. "Ah, that hits the spot." The warriors followed suit, and a chorus of exclamations filled the air. "This¡­ this is amazing!" one of them said, looking at his mug in awe. "The flavor¡¯s richer!" another added. "What is this called?" Tuk grinned proudly, standing tall like a queen addressing her subjects. "This, gentlemen, is called SHEMBOT!" And so, the banquet begins! Plates are stacked, glasses are clinking, but... wait a minute... where¡¯s the real party vibe? This banquet is missing some serious flavor: karaoke! And so, I step up, grabbing the nearest spoon (instant mic), and decide it¡¯s time to turn this kitchen into a full-blown stage. The warriors look at me like, "Really?" but in no time, we''re belting out "We Are the Champions!"¡ªwell, sort of. Now, here¡¯s the best part: these warriors? Absolutely tone-deaf. I¡¯m talking every note being a journey to parts unknown. I¡¯m laughing so hard I can barely get a word out, but no one cares! Who needs pitch when you¡¯ve got passion? We¡¯re a wildly off-key choir, and it¡¯s glorious. Forget the banquet formality¡ªlet¡¯s party! Chapter 20: A trap or An Opportunity The festive air thickened around Tuk as the warriors roared with laughter, their cups filled and refilled with the strange, cloudy liquid she¡¯d whipped up. She¡¯d intended only to make herself a simple drink to ease the sting of the evening, but as soon as one of the warriors tried a sip, word had spread like wildfire. Now, the tables were overflowing, and the warriors seemed to drink her ¡°shembot¡± as if it were mere juice. Every time she turned, someone new was shouting for more, raising their cup high, shouting her name with a newfound reverence that was both flattering and utterly overwhelming. For once, she could let her guard down, the warmth of camaraderie pulling her into the rhythm of their celebration. Laughter echoed around her, and though her concoction had been entirely unintentional, Tuk found herself strangely at home in their praise. Hours later, Tuk staggered outside, her stomach churning from the wild mix of fruit juices and liquor. She barely made it to the nearest bush before doubling over, retching miserably. "Blurghhh..." she groaned. Collapsing onto the grass, she stared up at the full moon with bleary eyes. "Hey, Moon," Tuk muttered, glaring up at the sky. "You¡¯ve been watching all this, huh? Just hanging there, all perfect... while I¡¯m down here in this mess." She waved a clumsy hand at the stars, a bitter laugh bubbling up. "I¡¯m stuck in a palace full of shitty royalty and men, and you... you¡¯re just... still there. Like nothing¡¯s changed, glowing. I wish I could be like that. Unbothered. Untouched." Her voice cracked, and she laughed again, though this time it was hollow, more frustration than humor. "But no. I¡¯m here. With no way out..." Her rant grew more incoherent as she drunkenly rambled on about her life, her new job, and the ever-mounting debt she had waiting for her back home. She let out a crazed laugh, the sound cutting through the still night air. "Look at me!" she cackled, slumping against a gold-adorned bench like a drunken queen on her throne. "I¡¯m like a queen sitting on a gold chair; I wonder how much I can sell this...right, I can''t even take this with me." She laughed until her voice was hoarse, her bitterness spilling out into the night, her royal delusions fading as the stars above seemed indifferent to her plight. Just as she was beginning to laugh at her own absurdity, she noticed a familiar figure approaching. "Tuk?" Leon¡¯s calm voice cut through her haze. Tuk squinted at him, recognizing the historian''s poised, elegant walk. "Ah, our pretty boy head, Sire Leon! I¡¯m just having a chat with Mr. Moon here." Leon frowned. "You¡¯re drunk." Tuk mumbled like a child, staring at the moon. "But he¡¯s not answering me..." Her voice barely audible, she suddenly slammed her face onto the table, startling Leon. "H-Hey, are you okay?" Leon asked, concern creeping into his voice. Tuk only shook her head, her face still buried in her arms as tears began to pool. "I miss my sister... Waaahhh!" Tuk''s voice cracked as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her strong exterior, built over countless moments of stress, was crumbling fast. Everything she had been through¡ªnone of it was normal. And now, she was barely coping. "I just... I just want to be a stone..." she whimpered, her sobs punctuated by small gasps as she stared blankly from space. Leon watched her for a moment, unsure how to react. He knelt beside her. "Where¡¯s your family? You could ask His Highness to visit them. I¡¯m sure he¡¯d grant you permission, even just for a day." His voice was kind, but Tuk didn¡¯t respond right away. She stared off into the distance, her eyes distant and haunted. "I''m the only one here," she said quietly, her tone heavy with sorrow. Leon frowned, realizing something terrible must have happened to her family. His thoughts lingered on the weight she must be carrying alone.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. "Did His Highness say something to you?" he ventured cautiously. The question seemed to pull Tuk back from her trance. She blinked, and the tears that once fell freely seemed to retreat. "A lot... he said a lot, but... I forgot, hehe," she replied, offering a hollow laugh, clearly drunk and overwhelmed. Leon smiled gently, though something gnawed at him. Something had definitely happened. "You should probably go inside and rest," Leon suggested, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I have to go now. I need to report to His Highness." He stood and began to walk away, but Tuk¡¯s voice stopped him in his tracks. "Report...about me?" Her words were sharp enough to make him flinch, and when Leon turned, he saw a change in her demeanor. Tuk had lifted her head, her eyes sharper than before. The drunken vulnerability had vanished, replaced by a guarded suspicion. Their eyes locked, and an unsettling silence fell between them. Leon¡¯s expression darkened, his friendly facade slipping away. "So you knew," he muttered, as if they''d both been playing a game that had now come to light. Tuk blinked a few times, her mind sluggishly trying to catch up to what Leon was saying. The haze of alcohol still clouded her thoughts, but something in Leon¡¯s voice sobered her up. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the table, the dizziness fading as suspicion sharpened her focus. "It would be strange if I didn¡¯t," she said, her voice wavering at first but then steadying as the full weight of his words hit her. The drunken vulnerability was gone now, replaced by the Tuk who knew how to survive. The longer Tuk stayed in the palace, the more the truth came into focus¡ªespecially concerning the prince. Bit by bit, as she listened to Leon¡¯s voice, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. His laughter, those fleeting moments of kindness¡ªit was all a carefully constructed facade. Reassessing everything, she felt a chill of realization. She could sense the deception because she wore a similar mask herself. Just as I thought, he¡¯s suspicious of me. But why? What¡¯s his true purpose here? This confirmation settled over her like a cold shroud. She wasn¡¯t alone in hiding behind false expressions; everyone here was, including Leon. The realization sent a shiver through her. So that¡¯s why I¡¯m surviving in this palace, she thought, the weight of understanding pressing down on her. She was surrounded by masks, each one more elaborate than the last¡ªand now, she had to decide which side of her own to reveal. Tuk¡¯s mind raced, her heart pounding as she tried to figure out her next move. She could feel the tension in the air, a reminder that one wrong step in this palace could spell her doom. She wasn¡¯t just dealing with one enemy¡ªeveryone here could be a threat. "Stay calm," she told herself, her hands tightening into fists beneath the table. She would have to play this carefully, or risk losing everything. Leon studied her in silence, the realization hanging between them. Now, two deceivers faced one another, eye to eye, truly understanding each other for the first time. He took a step closer, his presence more imposing. "You¡¯ve adapted well," he said quietly, his voice now cold and stripped of warmth. "But be careful, Tuk. Knowing too much in this place is... dangerous." Tuk¡¯s pulse quickened. "Is that a threat?" she asked, her voice steady even as her heart raced. Leon¡¯s lips curled into a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. "A warning." He leaned in, his breath chilling against her ear. "I truly admire your capabilities, so consider it a favor for me." The weight of his words lingered, suffocating. A chill crawled down Tuk¡¯s spine. "Then help me," she whispered, trying a new tactic. "Help me stop His Highness from assigning me as his advisor. I don¡¯t want to know too much¡ªI just want to live quietly." Leon¡¯s eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto hers with unsettling intensity. For a moment, he was silent, as if weighing her words. Then, with a quiet, almost sinister chuckle, he leaned back slightly, his shadow stretching ominously in the moonlight. "Oh, Tuk," he said softly, "in this palace, there¡¯s no such thing as living quietly." Tuk¡¯s breath hitched, her mind racing. She had expected this, hadn¡¯t she? Yet, hearing it out loud felt like a door slamming shut, trapping her inside a game she was barely keeping up with. Leon straightened, adjusting his coat as if the conversation had been nothing more than casual pleasantries. "If I were you," he added, his tone sharp, "I¡¯d be very careful about which pieces you move next. The wrong step might be your last." He turned on his heel, walking away without another word, leaving Tuk in the chilling silence. But before he disappeared into the shadows, he stopped, glancing back at her one last time. "And remember, Tuk..." His voice was low, but it carried with it an unmistakable warning. "Not everyone here will give you the chance to choose a side." The darkness swallowed Leon whole, leaving Tuk alone, her heart pounding in her chest. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to steady her breathing. Every instinct told her that she couldn¡¯t avoid this any longer¡ªshe had to act. But the thought of tracking down the princess and finding the key gnawed at her. How could she succeed where even the prince warriors had failed? Her mind whirled, the hangover fading but her worries growing heavier. The realization hit her like a blade to the gut¡ªsurvival wouldn¡¯t just require playing along. She would have to outmaneuver everyone, including the prince. Her eyes flicked toward the palace, the weight of her double life pressing down on her more than ever. One wrong move, and her disguise, her survival, and her very identity would unravel. But maybe... Maybe there was another way. Tuk rubbed her temples, a new thought sparking through the haze. If even Prince Michaelli couldn¡¯t find the key, maybe the key wasn¡¯t meant to be found or the princess itself really held the key? Maybe, just maybe, she was already holding the piece of the puzzle. Her position as the prince¡¯s advisor was more than just a trap¡ªit was her opportunity. But could she risk it? Tomorrow, she would have to choose carefully. After all, one wrong move, and she¡¯d lose everything, including her life. Chapter 21: The Crimson Night --Side Story-- Once a respected lord in the Kingdom of Ellis, Leonardo Eleonor was a childhood friend and confidant to Princess Seraphina, a woman of rare vision and kindness who dreamed of a more just world. Her ideals inspired Leon, who became her devoted protector and unwavering ally. But when the Emperor of Elthor, a man whose appetites knew no bounds, noticed Seraphina''s beauty, her fate took a dark turn. To secure their standing, her family sacrificed her to become the Emperor¡¯s concubine, shattering her dreams and ideals. Desperate to remain by her side, Leon disguised himself as a woman and took on the role of her silent guardian¡ªa royal servant helplessly watching as Seraphina¡¯s life devolved into a cycle of torment and confinement. Each night, he bore witness to the brutal consequences of the Emperor¡¯s attention. The worst blow came after a miscarriage, an event that stripped her of hope and left her pleading with Leon for an escape from her waking nightmare. ¡°Leon, I see no freedom left in this world¡ªonly chains, each link heavier than the last. Can you still call this a sacrifice for the kingdom?¡± Her voice cracked, a painful symphony of resignation and trust. Leon¡¯s heart clenched at the words. Time dragged on, each day weighed down by unspoken sorrow. Night after night, Seraphina begged Leon for freedom. Finally, a chance emerged¡ªa desperate plan to flee back to Ellis. But home offered no salvation. Terrified of incurring the Emperor¡¯s wrath, her family deemed Seraphina a liability and prepared to send her back, sealing her fate. Despair broke her final defenses, and she turned to Leon with one last plea: Leon, please kill me... As they made their way in a carriage, fate intervened. Ambushed by none other than Prince Michaelli of Marceau, a young leader whose name is well known for his ruthless intellect, Seraphina seized a final opportunity. She offered him an ancient piece of Arcanographica¡ªa relic of immense and mysterious power¡ªin exchange for his help in destroying the kingdom that betrayed her. With calculated interest, Michaelli accepted. The very defense of the Empire of Elthor is helping him achieve his goal rather easily. Under his strategic hand, Ellis fell, its leaders annihilated, and its legacy reduced to ruins. In the ensuing chaos, Seraphina wielded her newfound fury as her only weapon. When the time came to fulfill their bargain, Seraphina revealed that only through her death could the Arcanographica¡¯s power be transferred to Michaelli, freeing him from his burden temporarily. In return, she made one final request: that he take Leon under his protection. Michaelli, aware of Leon¡¯s ability to decipher the relic¡¯s mysteries, agreed to honor the princess¡¯s wish with a solemn nod. Seraphina met Leon¡¯s eyes, a quiet smile trembling on her lips, carrying the weight of unsaid words. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, her voice a fragile thread binding them one last time. Gratitude and memories flickered in her gaze¡ªshared laughter, late-night whispers, and lessons that were now ghosts. Michaelli¡¯s jaw clenched. The act was swift, merciless. Seraphina''s life slipped away like the last note of a mournful song, leaving the air thick with silence. Power surged into Michaelli, searing through his veins, but the room¡¯s newfound brilliance only deepened the hollow darkness left behind. Leon fell to his knees as grief consumed him, a raw, tearing agony that twisted inside his chest. Memories of Seraphina¡¯s laughter echoed like taunts in the stillness, each one striking harder than any blade. He reached for her lifeless hand, fingers trembling, the room spinning as the void she left swallowed him whole. The room was now empty, an echoing shell where warmth once lived. And as Michaelli stood, power pulsing within him, he glanced at Leon¡ªnow a broken man defined not by purpose but by the aching, irreparable loss. Leonardo Eleonor, relinquishing his title of Marquis of Astoria, became Leon Eleonor, Head Historian to Prince Michaelli. Hardened and relentless, he devoted himself entirely to Michaelli¡¯s cause¡ªto dominate the land and conquer the world. His grief crystallized into unwavering loyalty, as he vowed to continue Seraphina¡¯s twisted legacy. Where his heart was once tender, it was now a fortress; his resolve, an unyielding blade. With Michaelli intent on conquering the land, Leon¡¯s service was driven by a single aim: to uphold the vision of the princess he could not save. Leon watched the dark sky at the window, his eyes shimmering with unspoken promises. ¡°For you, Seraphina, I would help burn this empire to the ground if it meant your peace.¡± --The Prince Palace-- At the Prince¡¯s Quarters, a figure emerged from the shadows, a lone sentinel whose presence dominated the room with lethal precision. This was no mere warrior of the crimson ranks¡ªthis was their commander, known only by the title The Veil. His armor was a seamless blend of shadow and crimson, forged from metal so dark it seemed to swallow the light around him. Each piece fit like a second skin, etched with arcane symbols that had become synonymous with fear across the empire, whispering of battles that never reached a public record. A mask of polished obsidian covered his eyes, granting him an unnerving anonymity and a silence that masked not just his gaze, but his very intentions. Yet he moved without hesitation, every step carrying an authority that kept even the most hardened warriors of his command in thrall. His gauntlets were sleek and understated, revealing hands that bore no visible scars, suggesting a precision in battle that bordered on unnatural. Around his waist, a single, long blade hung in an intricate scabbard; its hilt was wrapped in dark leather, bearing no adornment except a single, barely perceptible engraving¡ªthe great royal ape emblem, marking him as a weapon of the prince¡¯s elite. He stopped a few paces from the prince¡¯s seat, bowing deeply. His voice, when it came, was low and coarse, reverberating through the chamber like a quiet storm. ¡°Your Highness,¡± he intoned, his words measured, reverent yet unyielding. Though the prince¡¯s gaze rested on him, it was clear The Veil required no sight to perceive his ruler¡¯s will. Each breath he took seemed in sync with the prince¡¯s own, as if he were not just a man, but an extension of the prince¡¯s most dangerous commands¡ªa weapon in human form, honed, loyal, and waiting only for a signal to strike.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. As he rose, his head inclined slightly, an indication of his complete attention. Here stood a man unbound by sight, yet fully attuned to the empire¡¯s pulse, a harbinger of secrets and shadows, ready to lead the crimson warriors into the empire¡¯s unseen battles.
Michaelli''s golden eyes flickered in the dim light, narrowing ever so slightly at Nixon''s question. His hand paused on the coat''s fabric, tension coiling in his movements. He straightened up, casting a glance at the veil, which silently nodded, understanding his command, before he left and disappeared. "I will," Michaelli replied, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of impatience. "Do you think I would leave something this important to anyone else?" He draped the coat over his shoulders, the soft rustle of fabric breaking the silence. The prince''s gaze sharpened as he stepped closer to Nixon, who shifted slightly under the intensity of his stare. "You hesitate. Why?" Michaelli¡¯s voice was quiet but demanding, each word carrying a subtle weight. He loathed hesitation, especially from those who should understand the precision with which he moved. Nixon swallowed, bowing his head. "It¡¯s not my place to question, Your Highness. I only fear for your safety." Michaelli¡¯s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile, his fingers brushing the hilt of his dagger as he passed Nixon. "Fear?" he echoed softly, his voice a quiet but lethal edge. He stepped past Nixon and into the hallway, his presence growing darker with each step. "If there¡¯s anything left to fear in this world, Nixon, it¡¯s not for my safety." He paused, his gaze cold and unwavering as he glanced back. "It is me." Michaelli strode into Prince Terado¡¯s residence, the uncle who once wielded influence as the emperor¡¯s trusted brother. The grand doors crashed open with a force that sent a shiver through the room, a prelude to the chaos that followed. His entourage of crimson warriors entered behind him, their silence only heightening the weight of Michaelli¡¯s arrival. Tonight, the pretense of deference was gone¡ªMichaelli had come to assert his will. "Search everything," Michaelli commanded, his voice sharp and cold. The crimson warriors moved swiftly, slicing through the palace¡¯s illusion of calm as they searched with practiced precision. The sound of overturning furniture and clattering objects filled the hall like a storm. Terado appeared moments later, still in his evening attire, the shock etched into his features. The man who once commanded fear now looked small, stripped of his power before the prince. "Your Highness!" Terado gasped, his voice wavering. "What is the meaning of this? I have reported everything, and your men¡ª" Michaelli¡¯s gaze silenced him, the room falling into an oppressive stillness. The prince advanced with deliberate steps, each one echoing with authority. He spoke with a tone as cold as iron, "Reported everything? Do you think I trust reports, Your Grace?" The way he uttered the title dripped with disdain, a reminder that Terado¡¯s rank meant nothing tonight. "Words can be twisted, masked, like the intentions of those who speak them. I prefer my own eyes." Terado¡¯s eyes darted around, searching for allies that would not come. His power, once formidable, now faltered under the prince¡¯s relentless scrutiny. Before he could muster a response, a crash sounded from the adjoining room. A warrior stepped forward, holding a bundle of papers with an expressionless face but an air of gravity. Michaelli¡¯s lips curved into a smile devoid of warmth as he accepted the documents, eyes never leaving his uncle. The moment he glanced at the contents, the air seemed to crackle with a newfound tension. "Tell me, Your Grace," he said, mock curiosity lacing his voice, "how many lives have been bought and sold under your watch?" Terado¡¯s face blanched, the last remnants of defiance draining away. "I¡ªI had no idea¡­ this must be some mistake¡ª" Michaelli raised a hand, cutting off his stammering. "A mistake? No, an oversight at best. But rest assured," he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper that sent a chill through the room, "you will answer for it." With a flick of his wrist, he signaled the warriors. They moved to detain Terado, who sputtered protests that fell on deaf ears. The prince turned on his heel, the papers clenched in his fist. The regent¡¯s shouts echoed down the halls as he was dragged away, reduced to the pitiful sound of a man who had lost everything. Michaelli¡¯s gaze shifted to the underground chamber below, where his warriors were freeing prisoners. Amidst the terrified faces, a frail boy stood out, meeting the prince¡¯s eyes with an expression that stirred something in him¡ªsomething old, buried deep. Michaelli¡¯s face hardened once more. Tonight, power had shifted irreversibly, and the true reckoning was only beginning. The prince stood on the platform overlooking the secret underground chamber, his sharp eyes scanning the terrified humans being freed by his warriors. Amidst the crowd, one figure caught his attention¡ªa frail boy who dared to stand before him, his clothes tattered, his face pale with exhaustion. The sight of the child stirred something deep within him. Michaelli stood still, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched a woman shield the boy, her arms wrapped protectively around him. The scene unfolded like a ghost from his past, awakening memories he had long buried¡ªof his own mother¡¯s desperate embrace, shielding him from a world full of cruelty. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, tension radiating through his body. The dim light of the underground chamber cast long shadows across the stone walls, but none were darker than the one now festering in his heart. The memories clawed at him, threatening to drag him back to a place he had vowed never to return. The woman trembled before him, her fear palpable as she held the boy tighter. She bowed deeply, her voice shaking with desperation. "He didn¡¯t mean to offend, Your Highness. Please, spare my son¡­ he¡¯s all I have." For a brief moment, Michaelli¡¯s gaze softened. His eyes flicked to the boy¡¯s hollow stare, and in that gaze, he saw a reflection of his own past¡ªfear, helplessness, and the same anguish he once carried. The sharp, metallic taste of bitterness filled his mouth, the weight of his mother¡¯s death pressing down on him once more. His jaw tightened further, a flicker of raw pain flashing behind his golden eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the cold mask of the prince who now ruled an empire built on strength, not sentiment. "Stand up," Michaelli ordered, his voice low but commanding, no room for weakness in its tone. The woman hesitated, clutching the boy tighter. Her defiance in protecting the child mirrored the stubborn love his mother had shown him. But he could not¡ªwould not¡ªrelent. "You have nothing to fear from me," he continued, forcing the steel back into his voice, though the battle within him was far from won. "But this¡­ this, this wretched suffering," his words grew darker, each one seething with barely restrained fury, "ends tonight." The woman slowly rose to her feet, though her grip on the boy did not loosen. She looked up at the prince, her tear-streaked face filled with disbelief and hope. Michaelli¡¯s eyes remained fixed on her for a moment longer, as if searching for something in her face¡ªsome proof that the world had not completely taken everything from them, as it had from him. Turning sharply, Michaelli addressed his warriors. "Take them all to safety. They will receive proper care." His voice grew cold again as he added, "Make sure the prince and those responsible for this... are dealt with." The warriors nodded and dispersed. Michaelli lingered for a moment on the platform, his back turned to the woman and the boy. He couldn¡¯t face them any longer. The pain of seeing that motherly embrace¡ªone he could never feel again¡ªwas unbearable. As he walked away, the flickering torchlight playing across his face, Michaelli whispered to himself, barely audible even to his own ears, "If only love had saved me too." Chapter 22: Buried Memories Michaelli¡¯s footsteps echoed through the stone corridors as he made his way out of the chamber, each step heavier than the last. The shadows on the walls seemed to close in around him, flickering in the dim light like haunting memories of a broken childhood, leaving him feeling small and vulnerable once more. His chest tightened at the thought of the boy¡ªfragile and afraid¡ªwho had clung to his thoughts. In the child¡¯s eyes, he recognized the same fear, the same yearning for safety that had haunted him as a child. But Michaelli knew better than to indulge in pity; it had no place in the empire he sought to build. As he ascended the stairs leading out of the underground chamber, Nixon emerged from the shadows like a specter of loyalty, his face grave but composed. "The operation was a success, Your Highness. All the prisoners have been freed, and Lord Terado has been taken into custody. What are your orders regarding his punishment?" Michaelli paused, the weight of the boy¡¯s gaze pressing down on him, memories of his mother and an unyielding sense of responsibility clawing at his insides. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. Mercy was a luxury his world could not afford¡ªnot for the weak, and certainly not for those who exploited others. ¡°Make an example of him,¡± Michaelli finally said, his voice icy and devoid of emotion. ¡°Let it be known that Terado, the Prince will die at dawn. Let the higher-ups hear of his crimes along with his head.¡± He kept walking, the hardened resolve in his expression leaving Nixon to carry out the order without question. But even as he gave the command, the haunting image of the boy wouldn¡¯t leave him. He could feel the anger gnawing at him¡ªthe same rage that had consumed him when he was a child. His mother¡¯s death, her choices¡ªit was all there, bleeding into every decision he made. No matter how much power he amassed, it never healed the emptiness left behind. As Michaelli exited the residence and stepped into the night air, the cold breeze cut through his coat, but it did little to clear his mind. He gazed up at the dark sky, the stars obscured by the ever-present clouds of the empire¡¯s looming struggles. "Your Highness," Nixon spoke cautiously, walking up beside him. "About the boy... and his mother. What shall we do with them?" Michaelli¡¯s golden eyes flickered again, the question striking deeper than it should have. He could hear the unspoken suggestion in Nixon''s words¡ªspare them, take them under your protection, perhaps even as a token of mercy. But mercy, to Michaelli, was a slippery slope. He had already chosen his path¡ªone where compassion was a weakness to be exploited. "They are nothing," Michaelli muttered, his voice distant as he stared into the shadows. "Send them to the northern border. The boy can join the others being relocated. They¡¯ll find work there. As for the woman¡­ she can serve in the outer provinces." Nixon bowed and moved to relay the orders, but the hesitation lingered in the prince''s chest. He should have been immune to such feelings by now. And yet¡­ As Michaelli turned away, his hand instinctively went to the dagger at his side¡ªthe same blade his mother had forced him to hold when she ended her life. His fingers brushed the hilt, cold and familiar, a reminder of the cost of love. He gritted his teeth, forcing the memories back where they belonged.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. There was no room for such distractions. With one last glance toward the darkened sky, Michaelli set his jaw and walked into the shadows of the empire he ruled¡ªwhere love was but a forgotten relic, and power was all that remained. Michaelli¡¯s eyes gleamed as he contemplated the road ahead. Prince Terado was merely a pawn in a much larger game¡ªone that Michaelli had been playing long before tonight. He had successfully removed his majesty''s shield. The empire was rife with dirt, its roots stretching all the way to the emperor¡¯s throne. Terado¡¯s capture would effectively send a ripple of fear through the ranks at the emperor''s side, but it was only the beginning of the storm he was about to unleash. Standing at the threshold of Terado¡¯s estate, Michaelli allowed a slow, deliberate breath to escape his lips. His vengeance had been set in motion years ago; the seeds of revolution planted in the shadows. The empire he sought to rebuild required more than just power¡ªit needed to be purified, cleansed of those who allowed the suffering of the innocent and exploited the weak. And none were guiltier than the emperor himself. In order to fight a dragon, you must be a dragon yourself. He knew that behind Terado stood more powerful figures¡ªdukes, ministers, and even the emperor¡¯s most trusted advisors. But Terado¡¯s fall would serve a dual purpose: to show them that no one, not even the emperor¡¯s brother, was untouchable. The empire, once a symbol of fear, would begin to rot from within, and Michaelli would be there, at every step, to guide its downfall. Turning sharply, Michaelli addressed Nixon, who awaited orders at his side. ¡°Terado is merely the start,¡± Michaelli said, his voice low and calm, yet brimming with dark intensity. ¡°His execution will send a message, but I want more than just fear. I want his allies to scramble, to feel their grip slipping. And when they fall, they will fall hard.¡± Nixon bowed deeply. ¡°I understand, Your Highness. I¡¯ll ensure the news spreads throughout the empire by sunrise.¡± Michaelli nodded, his eyes narrowing as he thought of the empire¡¯s power structure, the web of deceit that had been spun over generations. "Let them think this is an isolated incident," he continued. "Let them believe Terado is just a victim of his own greed. We¡¯ll strike again, but not too soon. They mustn''t see the pattern¡ªnot yet. Inform the rest of the crimson commanders and disperse to their own territory; continue to be my eyes in everything." A cold breeze swept across the courtyard, rustling the edges of his coat. Michaelli¡¯s mind turned to the emperor, his father¡ªan embodiment of everything Michaelli had come to despise. The bloodline, who had enforced the cruel laws that had left countless lives in ruin. Michaelli''s hands clenched into fists, the thought of his father¡¯s eventual downfall driving him forward. "The emperor," Nixon ventured cautiously, "do you have a timeline for when you will¡­ confront him?" Michaelli smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "When the time is right. He believes himself untouchable, but he forgets that the foundation of his empire is fragile. All it takes is one crack, and everything crumbles. For now, I will let him feel secure in his throne. But every move I make is one step closer to his end." The prince¡¯s gaze drifted toward the horizon, his vision of the future clear in his mind. He would strip the empire down, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the old regime. He would replace the rot with something new, something strong. But first, he had to break the chains that held it together¡ªstarting with those who stood beside the emperor. He turned to Nixon once more, his eyes gleaming with a sharp edge. "We will target the others next¡ªthose who think they are safe because of their titles, their wealth. Begin gathering information on the Duke of Arcadiel and Lord Faustus. Their time will come soon." Nixon nodded, his expression resolute. "It will be done, Your Highness. About the historian¡ªwould it be dangerous to let him near you? It''s not confirmed yet whether he''s one of the emperor''s people or not." "That one is clever. It will benefit me more if I keep him near me. One thing is for sure, he''s not one of the emperor''s. I already have a plan for him," Michaelli said, dismissing the topic and walking away from Terado''s residence, leaving the rest of the warriors to plant false evidence and clean the residence. Michaelli¡¯s mind swirled with thoughts of revenge and the empire he would reshape from the ashes. His steps grew steady, his resolve stronger. Terado''s fall was just the start of a long, calculated campaign¡ªa war waged from within, against the very bloodlines that held the empire together. But no one could stop him. Michaelli had learned from the shadows, watching as power corrupted everything it touched. He had survived a life of suffering; his mother¡¯s death was both his deepest wound and his driving force. Now, he would ensure that no one¡ªnot even the emperor himself¡ªcould stand in his way. He was beyond saving. His hands and blood were already tainted, and he would drag everyone into the hell he was bound for, leaving no one behind. As he walked toward the awaiting carriage, the echoes of his footsteps fading into the night, Michaelli''s mind settled on one truth: each piece of the empire would fall, and in the end, only he would remain standing. He would bring an end but also create a beginning¡ªa beginning where someone like him would never come to exist again. Chapter 23: The Path they both walked The hall was vast, its high ceiling studded with banners from each old and new noble house. Candles flickered in iron and gold sconces along the walls, casting shadows that danced across the faces of those already seated¡ªmembers of the court, advisors, and other powerful figures. At the center of it all, Michaelli sat at the head of a long table, his sharp gaze scanning the room filled with officials and nobles, gathered with a singular purpose: to press him into securing the future of the empire by producing an heir now that the war had ended. It was a conversation that had resurfaced with growing intensity, a familiar demand Michaelli despised. He didn¡¯t miss the subtle, expectant glances cast his way, nor did he fail to notice the tension building in the room as the subject of marriage and heirs was once again laid before him. But today, there was a new element in the room¡ªTuk, the historian. Tuk stood awkwardly by the door, her eyes darting from one official to another, clearly confused as to why he was present at such an intimate, high-stakes meeting. Michaelli had deliberately chosen not to inform him of the nature of this gathering. He wanted to see how he would react, how he would navigate the uncharted waters of court politics. More importantly, he wanted to see if he could do what he had no desire to do¡ªturn the conversation in another direction entirely. A councilman cleared his throat, addressing the issue without hesitation. "Your Highness, it is imperative that we secure the line of succession. The empire must have an heir, and your reluctance to choose a suitable match is¡­ troubling. The people are growing anxious. We urge you to consider Lady Aurelia of Solmont, a perfect candidate of noble blood¡ª" Before the official could continue, Michaelli¡¯s golden eyes flashed toward Tuk, catching her glance. The room fell silent, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Michaelli didn¡¯t need to say anything¡ªhis look was enough to communicate his unspoken command. Tuk blinked, clearly unsure of what was expected of her. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then glanced back at the officials. Her confusion was palpable, but there was something else beneath it: a challenge. Tuk had no context, but Michaelli knew she was resourceful. The councilman, not sensing the undercurrent, pressed on. "The lady is young, of a suitable age, and well-acquainted with royal customs. Surely, Your Highness, it would be¡ª" Tuk suddenly interrupted, her voice unsure but cutting through the tension. "Um¡­ I¡¯m sorry to interrupt, but the prince needed to love, as the Arcanographica says; isn¡¯t marriage supposed to be mutual? If you¡¯re talking about something as important as an heir, shouldn¡¯t feelings matter too?" The room shifted, some officials looking bewildered by Tuk¡¯s intrusion. She gave an awkward smile, clearly out of her depth, but her words had done exactly what Michaelli intended¡ªthey disrupted the flow of the conversation. A noblewoman seated nearby raised an eyebrow. "Feelings?" she repeated, incredulous. "This is the matter of the empire¡¯s future, not some fleeting romance. What does love have to do with it?" Michaelli leaned back in his chair, watching with interest. Tuk was floundering, but she had unwittingly thrown the room into disarray. "Well," Tuk said, scratching the back of her head awkwardly, "as I said, it was written in the scroll of Arcanographica that His Highness is interested in acquiring for its power. Also, where I¡¯m from, love kind of makes everything work better. You know, like, happier relationships, happier people? It¡¯s not just about making heirs, but making sure the family... thrives. Isn¡¯t that, uh, important too?"Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Her words hung in the air for a moment, and Michaelli suppressed a smirk. He could see the confusion and discomfort spreading among the officials. They had been expecting an obedient answer, not a philosophical debate about love and its relevance to succession. The councilman, visibly flustered, turned toward Michaelli. "Your Highness, with all due respect, we cannot rely on such¡­ whimsical notions in matters of state. The empire¡¯s legacy is at stake." Michaelli¡¯s expression remained impassive, but his mind was already calculating his next move. Tuk had done exactly what he needed her to do¡ªderail the conversation. Now it was his turn to steer it into deeper waters. "You speak of legacy," Michaelli said, his voice cold and measured, "as if it can only be secured through blood. But what use is an heir born into a world of chaos? Or perhaps you wish me to create another monster like myself. I wonder if any of you could survive that." His gaze darkened. "The empire reeks of filth from within, and you expect me to throw a child into that?" The room went silent. The councilman¡¯s face drained of color, and the other officials shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Michaelli gestured toward the scroll, his hand hovering over a particular passage inscribed in a language only a few could decipher. The councilman, visibly unsure, stared at the ancient text in confusion. "This," Michaelli continued, "is a chronicle of a time when love was not treated as a transaction but as power¡ªtrue power that could change the fate of entire kingdoms. The scroll speaks of love¡¯s ability to conquer, to shape empires and destinies." His voice sharpened, a quiet intensity simmering beneath his words. "And yet you sit here, demanding an heir, without understanding the very force that could make or break this empire." Tuk¡¯s heart raced as she watched him. She was unsure, but Michaelli was using what she had just said in the scroll masterfully, not as a mere artifact but as a tool to manipulate the minds of those in the room. He was bending their understanding of love to fit his vision, using the ancient text to validate his stance. "Love," Michaelli said, glancing briefly at Tuk, a softness flickering in his gaze that made her heart skip, "is not just about reproduction. It is about control, influence, and loyalty." His eyes narrowed as he spoke the next words, "Love can be wielded, just as this scroll¡¯s power can be wielded. And those who fail to see that¡­ will be left behind." The councilmen shifted in their seats, clearly unsettled. They were not used to having their centuries-old customs questioned, especially not by a young prince. But the power of the scroll, combined with Michaelli¡¯s unyielding confidence, left them with no room to argue. Michaelli continued, his gaze hardening. "The future of this empire rests not on an heir, but on its strength and stability. My priority is neither marriage nor children¡ªit is power. When the empire is secure, when threats from within are eliminated, then, and only then, will heirs be a matter for discussion." Tuk¡¯s eyes widened slightly as she caught on to Michaelli¡¯s true agenda. He wasn¡¯t just testing her¡ªhe was using her to deflect attention from his personal aversion to the matter of heirs. He was redirecting the conversation entirely. "But Your Highness¡ª" another official began, but Michaelli cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "This meeting is over," Michaelli declared, his tone brooking no argument. It was not just the voice of a king but of a soon-to-be emperor who would entertain no further debate. He rose, his coat sweeping behind him like a cloak of power as he strode toward the door. The officials scrambled to their feet, bowing low as he passed, the weight of his authority palpable in the silence. Tuk, still standing near the door, looked flustered but also somewhat relieved that the ordeal was ending. As Michaelli passed her, he gave her a glance that could almost be mistaken for approval, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, leaving a warmth in its wake. Without a word, he left the room, his mind already racing with thoughts of the empire, his plans, and the invisible chains that bound him to a curse he could never speak of. The historian had bought him time, but Michaelli knew that the pressure would return and that the demand for an heir would persist. What they didn¡¯t know¡ªwhat they could never know¡ªwas that Michaelli had no intention of ever producing one. Not while the fear of touch, the pain of his past, and the weight of his cursed condition continued to haunt him. Tuk remained frozen as the prince¡¯s gaze flicked toward her one last time. He had brought her here to make her see, to force her to understand exactly what he would expect of her as his "love advisor." He wanted her to grasp the gravity of his world, to bear witness to the ruthless schemes, the dark ambitions, and the dangerous path they were both about to walk. This was no simple role; it was a pact. She would have to withstand the full weight of his plans¡ªor risk being swallowed by them. As Michaelli swept past her, Tuk felt her throat tighten. No one in the room knew that she was a woman, and yet, standing in the prince¡¯s shadow, she wondered how long her disguise would hold. The prince knew far more than he let on, and if anyone was capable of uncovering her secret, it was him. Chapter 24: Discerning survival rate In the World of Dominance Arc 1 (End) Another day had passed, and Tuk¡ªwho once would never rise before sunrise¡ªnow found herself running in the fields with the warriors she had come to respect. She¡¯d grown close to them for their honesty and simple-mindedness, traits she had come to treasure in a world full of deception. Even though the war was over, Tuk forced herself to keep up with the morning exercise routine she once despised. Over time, it had become a habit, and now she pushed herself at her own pace, surrounded by warriors who trained relentlessly, their muscles straining as if ready to burst. Why are they like this? Their discipline and camaraderie motivated her¡ªnot just for her body¡¯s sake, but because it cleared her mind, a necessity in her complex and secretive life. "Is it true your group is leaving the palace?" Tuk asked Bucky, who was in the middle of lifting a heavy stone, as she sat on the ground to rest between sets. "Yeah," Bucky grunted, his voice strained from the weight. "Our purpose here is done, and the general finally got the land he was promised. We¡¯ll be busy clearing it up, but I¡¯m sure General Helion would welcome you if you wanted to visit." "I¡¯d rather join your team if I were allowed." Bucky laughed, sweat trickling down his forehead as he shook his head. "What are you talking about? Don¡¯t you know how much the warriors envy you for being close to His Highness? No one doubts you¡¯re cut from a different cloth, with that brain of yours. The rest of us couldn¡¯t handle half the things you do." He chuckled, wiping his brow as his laughter echoed across the field. Tuk didn¡¯t reply, trying to push away the reminder of her stressful life in the prince¡¯s court. She dreaded the unexpected summons to face nobles whose names and faces blurred together, where they¡¯d debate love and power in ways that made her head spin. She didn¡¯t know what might kill her first¡ªthe nerve-wracking debates, the wary glares of the nobles who found her presence suspicious, or the prince himself if he ever discovered her secret. Did he really believe she had the answers to every riddle in his mind? Feeling a surge of frustration, Tuk grabbed a stone and placed it onto Bucky¡¯s back, adding to his load. ¡°W-Wait! I didn¡¯t ask for extra weight!¡± he stammered, his arms trembling under the added burden. ¡°It¡¯s my parting gift,¡± Tuk said with a grin, tapping his muscled shoulder. ¡°Good luck with the rest of your training.¡± She turned to leave, waving as she trudged off. ¡°H-Hey! At least take the stone off before you go!¡± he shouted after her, but Tuk just smiled to herself and kept walking. That night, Tuk sat cross-legged on the floor of her dimly lit room, notes spread in a wide arc around her. Her hand hovered over sketches, arcane symbols, and hastily scrawled observations about the court, Prince Michaelli, and the map she¡¯d taken from the palace library under the prince''s name. She might need it someday, in case an unexpected turn of events occurred again. The map of the Empire of Marceau lay before her, inked with strange symbols and places she¡¯d only heard whispers of. A heavy sense of mystery clung to it, as if each line and mark on the parchment concealed secrets she wasn¡¯t meant to know. Well, not that I can read maps... but can I trust this? She had only seen the palace of Homonhon, its cold, ancient halls where she copied strange symbols, never venturing beyond its walls.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. To the north, beyond Homonhon¡¯s frozen expanse, a shadowy serpent lurked in the waters, coiled like a warning. Just an artist¡¯s myth to exaggerate the dangers of this place, she tried to convince herself from an artist''s perspective. The Empire of Marceau stretched eastward, its fortress perched ominously on highlands she barely knew. Farther south lay the ruins of Elthor, another fallen empire, its name barely legible, like a faded memory best left forgotten. Southward, the forested lands of Adarna were marked, shrouded in mystery. Other names and symbols¡ªa black mountain labeled Crystaliana, a fort named Chalcedony¡ªhinted at places she might one day seek if escape became necessary. But could she trust these paths to lead her safely? I don¡¯t know how to reach these lands, she thought, fingers tracing the inked peaks on the map. And I¡¯m certainly not skilled at navigation. A headache throbbed at her temples as doubt seeped in, the room pressing in on her with the weight of indecision. But sitting here, doing nothing¡­ wasn¡¯t that the greater risk? Who lived in those lands, and what power did they wield? The map provided no answers¡ªonly questions that deepened her unease. One thing was certain: it held more mysteries than revelations. For now, her world remained limited to what lay before her. Exploring these places might prove invaluable if she ever needed an escape. It was always better to have multiple plans than to rely on just one or two, especially with the unpredictability of the prince and Sire Leon. To a stranger, it might appear as if she were wireframing a complex app interface. In a way, she was¡ªexcept this time, it wasn¡¯t a website she was designing, but her own strategy for survival. At the center of the spread lay her notes on the Arcanographica, the ancient scroll she¡¯d been piecing together since her arrival. Every symbol, every rune, every cryptic phrase hinted at something critical. But critical to what? The ¡°key¡± mentioned in the scroll, perhaps. Yet the princess of Homonhon was still missing, and with her, any hope for real answers. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the exhaustion of nights spent sorting and analyzing, her mind throbbing with half-answers layered like tangled lines of code she¡¯d forgotten to debug. Tuk tapped her pen against her notebook. Focus, she told herself, squinting at her notes on Prince Michaelli. The man was a study in contradictions: charming yet dangerous, turning threats into mere annoyances. Beneath that charm lay a raw, untamed power barely leashed behind his piercing golden eyes. Michaelli was both shield and sword, authority wrapped in a dangerously beautiful package. And who better to keep you safe? She stared at a sketch of the prince, drawn hastily yet capturing his stern face and predatory grace. If she couldn¡¯t beat him, she¡¯d have to use him, letting him clear the dangers that lay between her and any escape back home. Loyalty, she¡¯d learned, was currency here, and she intended to make good use of it. It might be a bit dangerous but there''s no denying that it was the best option. Tuk grinned despite herself. It was like designing for a demanding client: you didn¡¯t argue; you adjusted, adapted. You found ways to turn their demands in your favor. ¡°All right, Prince Michaelli,¡± she murmured, glancing over her notes one last time. ¡°You¡¯re the lead feature in my survival strategy now.¡± Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and Tuk scrambled to hide her notes. Leon¡¯s voice drifted through the wood, calm as ever. ¡°Tuk? His Highness calls for you.¡± Again? Taking a deep breath, she tucked the notebook into her cloak and rose, smoothing her hair as if it might make her appear loyal¡ªand less like she was plotting behind closed doors. ¡°Yes, Sir Leon,¡± she called, opening the door. Their eyes met, and for a split second, no words were necessary. Leon was the one who had ultimately led her to this decision, watching closely for any historian who might expose what they shouldn¡¯t. While Tuk still couldn¡¯t fully grasp his purpose in fooling other historians, she knew one thing: Leon was more aware of her plans than he let on. Leon nodded, glancing briefly at her cloak. ¡°Another servant will take you to him,¡± he added. ¡°The council awaits.¡± With a quick exchange of goodbyes, Tuk followed the second servant down the corridor toward the prince¡¯s office, her heart thudding with equal parts tension and amusement at the absurdity of her plan. The door to the prince¡¯s office swung open, and Tuk found herself immediately ensnared by Michaelli¡¯s intense gaze. His look held an unspoken understanding, as though he already knew she had chosen to work alongside him rather than stand in opposition. His eyes gleamed, a mix of amusement and respect flickering in their golden depths as he studied her in silence. ¡°Good,¡± he said quietly, his voice low but commanding. ¡°We¡¯re about to meet the council. Stick close. You¡¯ll want to hear this.¡± Tuk nodded, fighting back a laugh at the absurdity of her situation. She fell into step beside him, reminding herself of the strategy she had adopted: there was no need to beat the prince at his own game. Sometimes, the best way to navigate a maze was to follow the one who held the map. As the doors to the council hall swung open, Tuk¡¯s pulse quickened. I don¡¯t think I want to hear any of it, she thought, steeling herself for whatever revelations awaited. But I don''t have a choice but to nail it. Chapter 25: The role I have to nail Ever walked into a job interview, nailed it, and then walked out wondering, What did I just sign up for? That¡¯s my new nine-to-five. I call it ¡°professional improvisation.¡± A few months ago, I thought I planned out and understood my job description: pose as the prince¡¯s love advisor, guide him through the ¡°mysteries of romance,¡± and eventually pair him off with some noblewoman. Simple enough, right? But the prince had other plans. I learned this three weeks ago when I was summoned unexpectedly into a court packed with high-ranking nobles, all staring at me as if I¡¯d just announced I¡¯d invented love itself. The last time Prince Michaelli and I spoke, he gave me that smirk of his, the one that says he¡¯s got the upper hand before the conversation even begins. I fumbled through some excuses about ¡°understanding my role¡± as his advisor. ¡°Your Highness, about this ¡®love advisor¡¯ thing... I might not be the best¡ª¡± His smirk deepened, and he replied with a calm, unnervingly serious tone, each word lined with purpose.¡°Ah, Tuk,¡± he said. ¡°The title of ¡®love advisor¡¯ was always just a mask. A convenient distraction from your true purpose.¡± He stepped back, folding his arms. My stomach twisted, a silent warning that whatever came next to those mouths of his was not a good thing for me. ¡°Your tasks are far more important than merely offering advice on emotions. You¡¯re here to help me manipulate the court officials who constantly demand an heir from me¡ªanticipate their thoughts, actions, and weaknesses.¡± I felt my cold sweet as he began to pace, his gaze never wavering from mine. I willed my expression to stay neutral, but my hands clenched behind my back, betraying my unease. ¡°Your role is simple yet critical: observe, analyze, and provide insight. Whether they are loyal, enemies, or potential allies, you will guide me through their emotions with this thing you call love, just as you did before with the scroll. It might be only one piece of the human psyche, but it¡¯s the most unpredictable¡ªand the one thing the council cannot contest.¡± He paused, his eyes sharp, daring me to flinch. I swallowed hard, the weight of his expectations pressing on my chest like a vice. ¡°You¡¯re here to make sure I don¡¯t miscalculate when dealing with them. I have far more pressing matters to attend to, but handling the constant heir dilemma gives me more headaches than executing the emperor''s officials." My ears rang, as if I¡¯d heard something I shouldn¡¯t have, and a cold shiver ran through me as my thoughts raced. The prince stopped, scrutinizing me as though he could see every piece of my composure slipping away. ¡°And of course,¡± he continued, his voice taking on a darker edge, ¡°you¡¯re to assist with the Arcanographica scrolls. They hold the information and the power that I need. Your job is to help me unlock that power and ensure no one else deciphers it first.¡± He leaned in, his gaze piercing. ¡°If any historian becomes a liability, you are to inform me or Leo immediately.¡± He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°Trust is a luxury we do not have. That¡¯s your true value to me, Tuk.¡± Then came that smile¡ªa glint of dark amusement in his eyes. ¡°Does this suit you better than advising on love?¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. I paused for a moment, blinking. Strangely enough, yes, it was. His ¡°revised¡± job description suited me far better. It played to my strengths in improvisation, unlike the daunting task of providing romantic counseling. Honestly, watching him interact with a princess would be like watching someone try to hug a hedgehog¡ªit would only end badly. But that¡¯s where the real fun begins. I wondered, amused, who the unlucky soul would be to try and tame him. (A/N: Me, the author:?? ) For the first time, I found a certain respect for him, especially in contrast to his father, whose twelve concubines paraded through the palace like characters from The Twelve Dancing Princesses¡ªthough those princesses looked dead inside. The fact that Prince Michaelli had no mistress was¡­ unexpected, and I find it hard to believe. Curiosity got the better of me, and I blurted, ¡°Your Highness, is it true you don¡¯t keep concubines or mistresses? I mean, it¡¯s¡­ rare.¡± His brow arched. ¡°And what of it?¡± His voice, calm but edged with unmistakable disdain, chilled the air between us. ¡°Do you find it so hard to believe that I don¡¯t indulge in such... distractions?¡± Silence settled as he let his words sink in. Then, with a faint smirk, he added, ¡°I don¡¯t parade my authority through concubines. My focus is on securing this empire¡¯s future, not pandering to shallow curiosities.¡± His amusement surfaced briefly. ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s why this empire still stands, despite the council¡¯s¡­ suggestions.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unexpected,¡± I muttered, a bit too honestly. ¡°I thought the apple didn¡¯t fall far from the tree.¡± His smirk vanished instantly, his gaze sharpening. ¡°Oh?¡± His tone was soft, each word a blade hidden in silk. ¡°And what sort of tree do you imagine I¡¯m the product of?¡± The chill in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. Scrambling for words, I stammered, ¡°A¡­ a golden tree, Your Highness. After all, His Highness is His Highness.¡± The second I said it, I wanted to reel the words back in. He chuckled softly¡ªa sound more like a drawn dagger than a laugh. ¡°A golden tree¡­¡± He repeated, savoring each word. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s one way to put it. Though I suspect your thoughts run deeper than flattery, historian.¡± His voice dropped lower, commanding the air itself to bow to his displeasure. ¡°Words, once spoken, cannot be unsaid. Remember that.¡± A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes stayed cold. ¡°But I¡¯ll indulge your curiosity. You seem to have ideas about my lineage, bold enough to speak aloud.¡± His gaze pinned me, the silent message clear: he was testing my loyalty. From that moment on, I knew the prince had bound me to his service. Deception was no longer an option; he¡¯d placed a shield over me, carefully planting the roots of loyalty I couldn¡¯t afford to test. And that shield served me well. For the first time since being thrust into this world, I felt secure enough to hold my head high. But his warning echoed: vigilance over everyone around me. I cast a glance at the other historians, each one hunched over their scrolls, but it was Sire Leo whose every move now seemed calculated. The prince¡¯s words rang in my ears: Ensure no one else deciphers them before we do. I think I understand Sire Leo¡¯s intentions now. If the prince had confided this in me, I was free of his doubts. But a question lingered¡ªwho in this court would dare betray him? Even bolder than me? So, I decided to play the long game, feeding the other historians information bit by bit, never enough for them to catch onto my own understanding. At first, I¡¯d held back to secure my position with the prince, a safety net against any ¡°disposable¡± decisions he might make. But the scrolls weren¡¯t just some fantasy-world magic¡ªthey were more like riddles than weapons, riddles I still didn¡¯t fully understand. Every night, I pored over my notes, looking for patterns in the scrolls¡ªsomething that hinted at the power he spoke of. So far, they read like ancient tales of dragons and lost realms¡ªlegends I had no reference for. But whatever secrets they held mattered less than the trust I¡¯d gained with the prince. He¡¯d tested me in his own way, and now I think I understand why he¡¯d misled me at first. For the first time, I was living comfortably, with a triple salary and endless food at every meeting since the prince rarely touched his meal. All of his royal delicacies were now going to my stomach, and it felt like I was dining in a five-star hotel. This was practically the perfect isekai for me! With the princess of Homonhon nowhere to be found, the mysterious ¡°key¡± she held was the last thing on my mind. My survival chances without the prince? A measly 15%. I¡¯d made the right choice in allying with him. He wasn¡¯t interested in humiliating women¡ªjust power. That, at least, was one worry off my plate. And hey, maybe he has a problem down there. Who knows? Not my business. His lack of interest in women isn¡¯t my concern. I¡¯m here to help him dodge marriage and an heir¡ªthat¡¯s something I know how to handle, even in my world. For now, things were finally starting to work in my favor. And I think I¡¯ve secured my place and acquired the most powerful shield I could ever have. I can live. Chapter 26: Love Advisor In the council chamber, the air buzzes with tension as advisors lean forward, pressing their demands on Prince Michaelli to address the future of the royal line. Their voices rise and fall with repetitive insistence on lineage¡ªwords that ring hollow to him, words he¡¯s long grown tired of. Tuk, having attended only six of these meetings, already feels her ears are about to bleed. She recalls her own grandparents¡¯ relentless insistence, the same worn phrases about marriage and heirs they used to push her toward a traditional life.
Yet the prince listens, though it¡¯s clear he has little choice. The council¡¯s obsession with his legacy runs deeper than tradition¡ªthey want reassurance because Michaelli, by winning the deadly tournament for the throne, eliminated the other heirs. This consequence, born of his own victory, makes it difficult for him to avoid these tedious sessions. Tuk, unaware of this bloody history, admires his patience, mistaking his resolve for quiet tolerance. How many years have they been hounding him on this topic? she wonders, impressed by his stoicism. Seated beside him, Tuk notices the faint tension in his clenched grip on the armrest. Catching his simmering irritation, a smirk tugs at her lips. She leans in close enough for only him to hear. ¡°Your Highness, if they crave legacy so much,¡± she whispers, her tone laced with mischief, ¡°why not give them something unforgettable?¡± Michaelli¡¯s gaze sharpens, a slow smile unfurling as he considers her suggestion. He turns back to the councilors, letting out an exaggerated sigh. ¡°Gentlemen,¡± he begins, his voice deceptively gentle, ¡°your enthusiasm for my legacy is truly¡­ moving.¡± His eyes sweep the table, catching their uneasy glances. A faint smile tugs at his lips, the kind that makes the councilors squirm. The council murmurs, sensing a potential breakthrough. Tuk decides to add her voice to the ruse, adopting a solemn tone as she addresses Michaelli. ¡°Perhaps, Your Highness, we might announce a formal courtship? A symbolic display that would satisfy the empire¡¯s concerns for the future.¡± The prince raises an eyebrow, catching the subtle glint of irony in her suggestion. He nods, as if weighing her words, while a knowing look passes between them. ¡°An interesting thought, Advisor,¡± he replies, maintaining the facade. ¡°Yes, a union that represents our empire¡¯s strength, but one with¡­ deeper, more lasting values.¡± His emphasis on lasting makes Tuk stifle a smile. The councilors exchange hopeful glances, nodding vigorously, oblivious to the manipulation at play. They believe they¡¯ve won. But, as Tuk and Michaelli both know, this ¡°courtship¡± is nothing but a well-laid distraction. As the council session drags on, Tuk weaves her words artfully, proposing a grand, staged romance. ¡°Imagine, Your Highness, a courtship not driven by mere affection, but by loyalty¡ªa devotion to the future. This way, we secure the empire''s future while simultaneously following the Arcanographica¡¯s scroll.¡± The councilors nod eagerly, absorbed in her words, while she exchanges another glance with Michaelli, their shared amusement clear. Once the councilors finally withdraw, satisfied they¡¯ve guided the prince¡¯s hand, Michaelli lets out a low chuckle, his earlier restraint melting into a rare display of satisfaction. ¡°You played them well, Tuk. They¡¯ll be talking of this ¡®union¡¯ for weeks.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°All part of my role as ¡®love advisor,¡¯ Highness,¡± Tuk replies smoothly, bowing with a mock-seriousness that only makes Michaelli smirk. ¡°Indeed,¡± he muses, studying her. ¡°They¡¯re so blinded by the idea of control, they don¡¯t realize they¡¯ve handed it to us.¡± His gaze sharpens, and there¡¯s a gleam of respect in his eyes. ¡°You understand this game of illusion and restraint. You know, love can be a powerful weapon¡­ much like myself.¡± Tuk nods, her smile widening slightly. Even she herself can''t believe what she is capable of ¡°Love, Your Highness, is one of the greatest facades of all. Played correctly, it can be anything¡ªa shield or a blade.¡± Her words carry a weight Michaelli recognizes, an insight that aligns with his own. He leans forward, intrigued. ¡°So, tell me, tuk. How would you suggest we sustain this illusion long enough to hold their focus?¡± ¡°A carefully chosen partner, perhaps,¡± she suggests, tilting her head thoughtfully. ¡°Someone willing to act the part without attachment¡ªsomeone who can keep secrets and never lose sight of the act.¡± Michaelli¡¯s eyes narrow, approving. ¡°A decoy. A player in our little theater,¡± he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°Perhaps an outsider, who won¡¯t question the arrangement or my intentions. Or maybe even a trusted court member¡ªsomeone who knows the value of silence.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± Tuk agrees, her eyes alight with shared delight. ¡°We¡¯ll stage the courtship as if it¡¯s a matter of the heart. The people will be swept up in the spectacle, while the councilors become too engrossed to see the truth.¡± Michaelli chuckles, genuinely amused. ¡°You¡¯re even more devious than I¡¯d hoped, Tuk. This decoy ¡®romance¡¯ may just give us the space we need. But I¡¯ll need your expertise to make it convincing.¡± Tuk inclines her head, her eyes gleaming. ¡°Of course, Your Highness. We¡¯ll give them a show like none before¡ªa true affair of the heart, or so they¡¯ll think.¡± Michaelli leans back, satisfied. ¡°Very well. Let¡¯s plan this ¡®courtship.¡¯¡± Together, they begin to plot the game, two minds perfectly attuned to the art of deception, as the illusion they craft takes shape¡ªa spectacle to beguile the council and leave their true intentions shrouded in shadow. As Prince Michaelli and Tuk settle into the quiet aftermath of the council meeting, the two conspirators exchange glances, each fully aware of the intricate layers of deception they are weaving. ¡°First,¡± Michaelli begins, leaning forward with the intensity of a strategist, ¡°we¡¯ll need someone who can fit the role convincingly. Someone attractive enough to command attention, yet humble enough not to overstep.¡± Tuk nods, pondering potential candidates. ¡°And someone who can keep their emotions at bay,¡± she adds thoughtfully, her fingers tapping against her chin. ¡°Anyone easily swayed by their own feelings could jeopardize the act.¡± ¡°Precisely.¡± A glint of approval sparked in Michaelli¡¯s eyes. ¡°A noble without much stake in the court¡ªa second son or daughter with little ambition. Someone aware of their place but able to hold the room¡¯s attention.¡± A sly smile crept across Tuk¡¯s lips. ¡°I know just the person, Your Highness. Eveline, daughter of Lord Alaric. Striking but modest, and as the child of a minor yet wealthy noble, she seeks little more than favor. A woman like her could keep the council entertained without expecting anything permanent.¡± Her suggestion was both swift and intentional. What Michaelli didn¡¯t know was that, after being appointed the prince¡¯s ¡°love advisor,¡± ambitious lords had flocked to her, each eager to secure their daughter as the prince¡¯s choice. Tuk, ever the opportunist, had seen an opening, a chance to turn their desperation into her own advantage. She had set up a quiet competition, convincing each eager lord that a ¡°recommendation¡± to the prince¡¯s ear came with a price. The higher the bribe, the closer their daughter would be to being introduced to the prince. Tuk cunningly capitalized on their eagerness, ranking each daughter by the amount her family contributed and creating a ¡°top five¡± contenders list. She raised the stakes, allowing the most competitive nobles to bid against each other, with the highest bidder securing her recommendation. Lord Alaric, with his deep pockets and determination, had come out on top.
Lord Alaric is a minor noble with sharp instincts and significant wealth, known for his shrewdness in navigating the intricate web of court politics. Though not one of the most powerful lords, his influence comes from his strategic alliances and unwavering ambition. Alaric''s primary goal is to secure a place for his lineage in the upper echelons of power, often appearing more reserved but perceptive. He is eager for opportunities that could elevate his family''s standing, which makes him both an asset and a pawn in the schemes of the more powerful figures.
Tuk had hit three birds with one stone: she¡¯d secured her finances, assisted the prince in his council woes, and, if all went as planned, set the stage for a story that could rival the most dramatic novels. Watching the cold-hearted prince potentially fall for Eveline due to an arranged match sounded like the perfect romance fantasy. With any luck, she¡¯d witness a love story unfold before her eyes, just as she¡¯d seen in her beloved comics. Who doesn''t want romance? she smirks Chapter 27: A cunning for a cunning Michaelli considering Tuks suggestion, tilts his head. ¡°Lord Alaric¡¯s daughter, hmm? I believe I recall her¡ªa demure presence at the last banquet.¡± He nods, his smile sharp. ¡°Perfect. She won¡¯t question her role, and her father will see it as an honor, not a power play.¡± Tuk¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°She¡¯s clever enough to play the part without letting emotions cloud her actions. We¡¯ll present her as a woman of quiet virtue, embodying the empire¡¯s ideals. The council will eat it up.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Michaelli decides, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. ¡°Have her father informed discreetly. He should believe this is a genuine interest from me¡ªa quiet arrangement to test compatibility, no more.¡± Tuk inclined her head, already considering the words she would use. ¡°I¡¯ll handle it. Lord Alaric is shrewd, but if we present this as a gesture of goodwill, he¡¯ll keep his ambitions contained.¡± He¡¯s shrewd, but he¡¯ll never know what we¡¯re truly planning. Tuk¡¯s smile deepened as she imagined Alaric¡¯s gratitude¡ªpraise and gifts flowing her way. And if Michaelli ever discovered her dealings, she had already crafted excuses as deftly as she played the court. Didn¡¯t he say I need to get creative? As long as the results are there, His Highness will never care. Michaelli nods approvingly. ¡°Excellent. Now, for the courtship. We¡¯ll need to stage a few ¡®chance¡¯ encounters. Ones the council will see, but that don¡¯t feel forced.¡± He taps his fingers together thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ll attend some of the seasonal gatherings, maybe even a hunt. I¡¯ll ensure she¡¯s in the vicinity without making it too obvious.¡± ¡°A perfect setting for a first meeting,¡± Tuk added, the scenes playing out in her mind. ¡°And during the hunt, perhaps a moment where you assist her¡ªa gesture that showcases gallantry.¡± A flicker of amusement crossed her face. And maybe start falling for her, she thought silently. Michaelli chuckles, impressed by her vision. ¡°You do think of everything. It¡¯ll be a spectacle of restrained affection, just enough to keep the council engaged.¡± He pauses, his gaze sharpening. ¡°And if she¡¯s competent enough, we¡¯ll add a touch of mystery. Perhaps a rumor or two about letters exchanged between us. They¡¯ll lap it up like wine.¡± This is starting to be a romantic plot I enjoyed! Tuk smiles, thrilled by the strategy. ¡°And if the council senses an air of secrecy, they¡¯ll be convinced you¡¯re taking her seriously.¡± She leans back, looking every bit as pleased as he. ¡°This way, they¡¯ll be too focused on this ¡®romance¡¯ to question anything else. The court will become its own distraction.¡± Tuk¡¯s smile widened. ¡°If the council senses secrecy, they¡¯ll believe you¡¯re serious about her.¡± She leaned back, savoring the anticipation. ¡°This distraction will keep their eyes away from more pressing matters.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Michaelli¡¯s gaze hardened, a shadow crossing his features. ¡°Precisely. Let them waste their breath on courtship and whispers of scandal. By the time they realize the truth, it will already be too late¡ªwhat they hold dear will crumble in their hands, and they won¡¯t even know it was me who lit the fire.¡± Tuk blinked, unsure what the prince meant. Her heartbeat quickened, though she forced her composure to remain intact. Something in his tone¡ªcold, calculated, and brimming with an unspoken threat¡ªgnawed at her resolve. Michaelli¡¯s laughter, low and dark, filled the chamber, curling around her like smoke from an unseen fire. ¡°This courtship is beginning to sound more advantageous by the minute,¡± he said, eyes locking with hers. ¡°You may bear the title of ¡®love advisor,¡¯ but we both know you¡¯re so much more.¡± Tuk dipped her head in acknowledgment, masking her unease. ¡°And you, Your Highness, wear the crown but wield far greater power.¡± With their plan now firmly in motion, they spent the remaining hours in hushed discussion, plotting each step with painstaking care. Their whispers were full of mirth and mutual admiration, bound by a shared understanding of power and deception. The council may think they¡¯ve finally directed Michaelli¡¯s path, but as Tuk and the prince¡¯s laughter filled the empty chamber, it was clear they were mere players in a chest they were playing. What Tuk didn¡¯t realize was that Michaelli¡¯s mind, ever perceptive and calculating, had shifted gears. The man who trusted no one had, in a matter of months, calculatedly allowed Tuk into his inner circle. But tonight, something felt different. He scrutinized his confidant as though seeing them for the first time. His golden eyes followed the tilt of Tuk¡¯s head, the subtle grace in their gestures¡ªthe way a strand of hair tickled just behind their ear, brushed away absently as they spoke, and the spark of enthusiasm in their eyes, so at odds with the wearied cynicism of court. These weren¡¯t affectations; they were truths, raw and unpolished, born from moments too natural to be contrived. Michaelli¡¯s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as Tuk shifted slightly, the candlelight catching the delicate curve of a jawline that had until now been cloaked in shadow. The prince leaned back in his chair, his demeanor as unreadable as ever, while Tuk outlined another step in their plan. Yet his focus had already drifted. He caught the cadence of their voice, the fluid way they moved, the occasional softness in their tone when they spoke. All these pieces, unnoticed before, now fell into place in his mind, forming a picture he didn¡¯t yet fully understand but could no longer ignore. A suspicion ignited¡ªa quiet, insistent thought that perhaps his brilliant advisor was not a man but a woman. The idea almost made him laugh, and his smirk deepened as the visual of Leon¡ªthe head historian with his similarly soft features¡ªflashed through his mind. Still, Michaelli couldn¡¯t entirely shake the thought. For the first time, he wondered: was Tuk merely clever and ambitious, or were they something else entirely? His lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile¡ªa dangerous, knowing smile¡ªbefore quickly disappearing. If there was a secret to unravel, Michaelli would unravel it. And if Tuk was playing a game, the prince vowed he would be the one to win. The curtain had been drawn on the stage, and soon the court would witness the dance unfold, never realizing they were all part of the intricate design crafted by the prince and Tuk. Without even realizing it, Tuk''s suggestions would create a significant impact¡ªnot just on individual kingdoms, but across the entire empire. In time, this influence would pave the way for women to hold positions of power, using the prince''s authority and dominance as the catalyst. But that change lay in the future... With an almost imperceptible nod, they turned from the candlelit room, their footsteps echoing with a promise: not of conquest, but of absolute dominion. Power would no longer be taken; it would be crafted. And as Michaelli¡¯s eyes lingered on Tuk¡¯s retreating figure, he resolved to uncover the truth behind his advisor. For in a world where masks and shadows ruled, even he could be surprised¡ªand that, he thought with a smirk, made the game all the more intoxicating. The world would learn that sometimes, the most dangerous weapon is not the sword or the crown, but the union of two minds sharp enough to wield both. Chapter 29: The Court...ship? Neigh!!! The hunting grounds bustled with energy, horses snorting and stamping around us. The competition was in full swing, and here I was, face-to-face with His Highness¡¯s steed, a big, glossy black horse named Nightfall. His coat gleamed more than mine on a good hair day, and his body¡ªwell-toned, muscular, and downright luxurious. It looked like it belonged in a stable catalog. ¡°Are you even a real horse?¡± I mused, reaching up to pat his silky mane. ¡°If you weren¡¯t so enormous, I¡¯d make you my pet. I¡¯d carry you around, Nightfall.¡± Nightfall snorted, answering with what sounded suspiciously like a judgmental eye-roll. But he didn¡¯t move away; instead, he let me hug his massive head. He was huge, sure, and he smelled like a horse, but¡­ not in the way I¡¯d expected. No, he didn¡¯t have the usual musty odor that clung to the horses back in the modern world¡¯s riding clubs. He smelled¡­ like cologne. Expensive cologne. I sniffed closer, amused. ¡°I bet your shampoo costs more than my salary back at home.¡± ¡°What are you doing?¡± I jumped back, my cozy moment with Nightfall interrupted by an unmistakably unimpressed voice. Michaelli stood there, eyebrow arched in that infuriating way. ¡°Is the preparation done?¡± Straightening up, I cleared my throat and composed myself. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. Lady Evelyn of House Alaric is in the fourth tent along with the other ladies.¡± I remembered my last visit to Lord Alaric¡¯s estate, where I¡¯d arranged to inform him of our ¡°mutual agreement¡± and collect my reward. As part of the arrangement, I¡¯d advised him to prepare his daughter for the upcoming hunt. It seems he took my suggestion quite seriously¡ªLady Evelyn is now here, dressed to impress. More pressing was whether she¡¯d actually taken my advice about the prince. Knowing his infamous temper, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how this would play out for her, but she seemed well-informed about the palace dynamics. Maybe she had a plan of her own? Either way, she was here now, and I¡¯d like to think I had something to do with that¡­ probably. Michaelli gave me a long, assessing look, glancing between Nightfall and me. ¡°Good. Now, move,¡± he said, slipping on his gloves with practiced ease. ¡°Go back to the pavilion and keep an eye on things while I am away,¡± he added as he mounted Nightfall, his movements so smooth he made it look effortless¡ªlike he was riding just an ordinary horse, not this massive horse. I couldn¡¯t even meet Nightfall eyes-to-eye. I hesitated, not entirely sure what my role here was supposed to be since the preparation was already done. ¡°Ah¡­ Your Highness, which tent should I go to? Could I maybe stay and enjoy the ladies¡¯ company?¡± I looked up at his imposing figure, doing my best to hide my excitement. Honestly, I missed chatting with girls my age¡ªthe kind of conversations that didn¡¯t revolve around muscles, swords, and relentless training. Why was the prince¡¯s palace practically a no-women zone anyway? Even here, it was like testosterone central. ¡°I mean,¡± I began casually, ¡°the whole ¡®keeping an eye¡¯ thing could probably be handled by, I don¡¯t know, those people.¡± I waved vaguely toward the ever-watchful guards nearby. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly your guard, after all.¡± My eyes flicked longingly to the distant table in the ladies¡¯ tent, piled high with pastries and treats. ¡°And¡­ their food does look¡­ really good.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The prince narrowed his eyes, clearly catching on to my not-so-subtle enthusiasm. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it,¡± he said, his tone as dry as the desert. ¡°Stay at my pavilion. Nixon will be nearby.¡± My shoulders sagged a little at the royal buzzkill, but inspiration struck almost immediately. ¡°Well¡­ could I at least eat from your provisions, Your Highness?¡± I gave him my best I-haven¡¯t-eaten-in-days look. ¡°I skipped breakfast because of the sudden orders and all.¡± He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. ¡°Do you really have to ask?¡± he grumbled, waving me off like I was an annoying fly. ¡°Eat whatever you want.¡± And with that, he nudged Nightfall forward, riding off with that infuriatingly majestic aura he always managed to pull off. As soon as the prince was out of sight, a grin spread across my face, and I practically skipped toward his pavilion. Jackpot! His tent looked like it had been plucked straight out of a royal banquet. Dishes gleamed under the soft lamplight, each one more mouthwatering than the last. Forget keeping an eye on the council¡ªI was about to keep both eyes on this feast. I dove right in, savoring every bite like a starving stray invited to a gourmet dinner. Between bites of flaky pastries and juicy roasted meats, announcements about the event filtered through the air. ¡°These people are insane,¡± I muttered, stuffing a tart into my mouth. ¡°Hunting beasts? What kind of lunacy is this? I prefer watching them afar¡± I pictured a giant tiger, the kind you¡¯d see lounging lazily at a zoo. With a shrug, I decided it didn¡¯t matter. Let them have their death matches. Me? I was perfectly content surviving with my muscles¡ªbrain muscles, mostly, but the arms were coming along nicely, thank you very much. ¡°Oh, here we go,¡± I mumbled as I peeked outside, a bowl of green grapes in hand. I happily munched away, my eyes on Lady Evelyn and the prince, who were about to cross paths in what I¡¯d imagined would be a scene straight out of a romance novel. Evelyn rushed toward her father, her ribbon fluttering dramatically as she attempted to offer it as a token of support. But fate had other plans. She crashed right into the prince, who caught her¡ªwell, less ¡°caught¡± and more ¡°picked her up like a sack of turnips.¡± ¡°The hell?¡± I muttered, nearly choking on a grape. Where were the hearts? The sparkles? The moment? Instead, it looked more like a scene from a dodging-the-ball match. Sure, he accepted the ribbon, but romance? Not even close. With a dramatic sigh, I retreated back to my plush sanctuary. The romance was overrated here. Let''s give up. ¡°Now, for the exciting part!¡± boomed a voice from outside, snapping my attention back to the commotion. I peeked out again, just as curious as the rest of the crowd. ¡°The palace has received word of a sighting of Onyxariel!¡± Gasps rippled through the nobles like a well-rehearsed wave. ¡°Ony-what now?¡± I muttered, frowning. ¡°Yes! The legendary black griffin with a golden beak that shines like molten fire! Its midnight feathers shimmer under the moonlight, while its haunting call echoes across the mountains. A creature of mystery and power, an omen of change!¡± The announcer¡¯s voice was dripping with drama. Apparently, this Onyxariel wasn¡¯t just any beast¡ªit was some mythical avian on steroids. What even is a griffin? I think I¡¯ve heard of it before¡ªprobably some kind of bird. The nobles were positively swooning as the announcer continued his over-the-top performance. ¡°Who will brave the hunt? Who among you dares to face this legendary creature?¡± ¡°Not me, that¡¯s for sure,¡± I quipped under my breath, plopping onto the prince¡¯s sofa with a plate of candied fruits. ¡°They can keep their terrifying death-bird. I¡¯ll be over here, making history as the first person to demolish an entire royal feast solo.¡± Lying back with my borrowed library book and a platter of pastries, I let the distant cheers and excited chatter fade into the background. Let them chase their mythical griffin. For me, luxury was the ultimate conquest. Time slipped by, and before I knew it, my eyes started to droop. The book is filled with words so deep and convoluted I can barely understand half of it. Soon, I find myself dozing off... ¡°Hey,¡± An annoying nudge poked insistently at my shoulder. ¡°Hey!¡± I grumbled, swatting the hand away and rolling to the other side, determined to stay in my blissful half-sleep. ¡°Historian Tuk, are you planning to wake up, or should I send you to the afterlife so you won¡¯t have to wake up again?¡± I snap awake, bolting upright and sending a few leftover grapes rolling off the bowl. Lord Nixon stands over me, his face shadowed by the light from the tent behind him. He¡¯s looking at me with his usual annoyed expression. ¡°Enjoying yourself, are we? While everyone else is working like horses.¡± He thrusts an envelope into my hands. ¡°Deliver this to His Highness before the third lap of the hunt begins. Make sure he receives it immediately.¡± I stare groggily at the neat, sealed envelope he¡¯s pressed into my hand. ¡°What¡¯s thi¡ª¡± Before I can even finish my question, another warrior arrives, pulling Lord Nixon¡¯s attention away, and they hurry off together without so much as a backward glance. ¡°Rude,¡± I muttered, flicking a grape stem in the direction he¡¯d gone. It dropped like a dead fly to the ground, a far cry from the majestic flick His Highness had pulled off in the past. ¡°Tsk! How did he even do it?¡± Feeling more annoyed, I turned the envelope over in my hands. My breath hitched when I caught sight of the insignia stamped on the seal¡ªa bold, unmistakable mark. The Emperor¡¯s seal. ¡°What?!¡± I nearly dropped it. ¡°Why do I have to deliver this? Isn¡¯t this the kind of super-important letter they hire couriers for?!¡± Chapter 28: The Princess of the Ardenii The Princess of the Ardenii, now one of a concubine of the King of Marceau, sat in her chamber, her six-year-old son Michaelli perched on her lap. She was a remnant of a tribe that once stood proud and powerful¡ªa matriarchal society unlike any other in a world dominated by men. The Ardenii, a legendary tribe, had thrived deep within the ancient forest between Crystaliana and Chalcedony. Known for their wisdom and resilience, they were revered as protectors of nature¡¯s secrets and guardians of sacred groves. Their ways were rooted in balance and harmony, believing the forest to be a living entity that guided and protected them as its chosen daughters. But that legacy had been shattered. Long ago, the Ardenii had been wiped out by war, their lands razed, their people slaughtered. The King of Marceau, seeking their rumored power, had captured the last of their leaders. She was made a concubine, stripped of her title and dignity. She bore not a daughter to carry on the Ardenii¡¯s legacy, but a son. Now, that son sat before her, his words a reflection of the harsh, male-dominated society of Marceau. ¡°Listen, Elli, you should treat women with respect. What you did is wrong,¡± the princess said firmly, addressing her son after witnessing his mistreatment of a servant girl. ¡°But my advisor said women are not worth anything, Mother,¡± young Michaelli replied, tilting his head in confusion. ¡°We can treat them however we want.¡± The princess¡¯s heart ached at his words. She gently pulled Michaelli closer, placing him firmly on her lap. ¡°Then, my child, are you going to treat Mother the same way you treated that girl?¡± Michaelli frowned, shaking his head vigorously. ¡°No, Mother! You¡¯re not the same as everyone else. You¡¯re the best, above them all. I was told that I¡¯m above everyone too, and that one day I¡¯ll rule over all the weak. I¡¯ll need to dominate them to be a true leader.¡± The princess sighed deeply, brushing her fingers through his dark hair. ¡°And how am I different, my child? Do I have two heads, four arms, or one leg? Am I not the same as the others you think so little of? And you, Elli¡ªare you different in body or blood from those you call weak?¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Michaelli opened his mouth but closed it again, unsure of how to respond. ¡°Dominance,¡± she continued, ¡°is a tool, but only fools try to dominate all the time. A wise ruler knows when to yield and when to assert themselves. If you crush everyone underfoot, you¡¯ll stand alone in a desert of resentment. But if you learn the balance, you can gain loyalty, trust, and power far greater than brute force can provide.¡± The boy looked up at her, his youthful innocence clouded with doubt. ¡°Then... are my advisors fools, Mother?¡± The princess laughed softly, her weariness momentarily lifted by the purity of his question. ¡°Some may be. But what they lack, you can learn. Listen to me, Michaelli. You must know when to yield. Learn to dance between dominance and submission. Bend, but don¡¯t break. Be strategic, and you¡¯ll gain the upper hand without lifting a hand. ¡°If your actions signal no threat, those in power will trust you. When you offer small gestures of understanding, they¡¯ll see you as a friend rather than a foe. This isn¡¯t weakness, my son¡ªit¡¯s calculated submission, a strength far greater than any show of force. Promise me you¡¯ll remember this.¡± The boy¡¯s lips pursed in thought, then he nodded solemnly. ¡°I promise, Mother.¡±
The princess kissed his forehead, her heart heavy yet hopeful. Would her son, born into a kingdom of dominance and cruelty, truly understand her teachings? Or would the ways of Marceau twist him into the very thing she feared? And then the bright day suddenly darkened, transforming into a suffocating night. ¡°Promise me... you will live, Elli,¡± his mother¡¯s trembling voice echoed, piercing through the oppressive silence. Michaelli froze, wide-eyed. Before him, his beautiful mother sat slumped on the floor, her body drenched in crimson. A dagger jutted from her chest, her delicate hands gripping the hilt. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips as she coughed, her strength ebbing with each passing moment. ¡°M...Mother?¡± Eight-year-old Michaelli¡¯s small hands trembled uncontrollably as he looked to where his hands at. She smiled weakly, her eyes filled with both pain and an unshakable love. ¡°Forget everything... and live, Elli,¡± she whispered, her voice soft but resolute. Her hands slipped away from the dagger¡¯s hilt as her body collapsed to the ground. Michaelli¡¯s breath hitched, his vision blurring as tears spilled freely. Michaelli woke abruptly, gasping for air, his body drenched in cold sweat. His chest heaved as he struggled to push the dream¡ªor was it a memory?¡ªfrom his mind. The image of his mother, her blood-stained smile and final words, lingered like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts. He was back in his pavilion, seated stiffly at his desk. His loyal attendant, Nixon, stood nearby, his calm presence grounding Michaelli in the present. ¡°Your Highness, the hunt will begin in a few minutes,¡± Nixon announced, his voice respectful yet firm. Michaelli¡¯s golden-brown eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered with a brief softness before hardening again. The ghostly echoes of his mother¡¯s ideals still whispered in his mind. Her world was not his. Here, dominance reigned supreme, and submission was seen as a weakness. He does what he says and the results are...death. He was weak but not now. He was different now. Still, her words refused to fade. Bend, but don¡¯t break. With a measured breath, Michaelli rose to prepare for the hunt. Someday, he would prove to her¡ªeven if only in memory¡ªthat he had listened. Chapter 30: The right arrogant jerk Upon discovering the importance of the letter, Tuk sprang from her seat and dashed outside. The sharp sunlight hit her face like a slap, drawing a groan from her lips. Great, just what I need¡ªbright sun after finally having a decent sleep. Her body felt stiff, a direct consequence of the feast she couldn''t resist. All those roasted lamb and steak are making me pay now. ¡°Where the hell can I find him?¡± Tuk muttered, squinting as she took in the sea of tents and pavilions. The mountains loomed around her, green and unfamiliar. Why did it have to be a place I¡¯ve never been before? The scale of it all felt as if she were searching for a needle in a haystack¡ªif that needle wore an arrogant smirk and led an army. She thought about hunting down Lord Nixon for more instructions but dismissed it. Finding the prince should be easier¡ªat least he''s flashy enough to spot. ¡°Excuse me!¡± she called to a warrior stationed under a canopy. The man, broad-shouldered and clad in armor that gleamed even in the shade, raised an eyebrow. ¡°What round is the hunt in now? I need to find His Highness¡ªit''s urgent.¡± He tilted his head, glancing at her rumpled state. ¡°The third round is about to begin, my lord.¡± ¡°What?!¡± Tuk¡¯s eyes widened, her voice cracking as the weight of her blunder sank in. ¡°Is it that critical?¡± he asked, the skepticism in his voice thick enough to cut. She nodded frantically. ¡°Yes, absolutely! Where''s that guy, I mean, his highness?¡± He sighed, rattling off directions as if reciting a list: ¡°Go straight, right after the fifth pavilion, past the flagpole, then left. There¡¯s a large pavilion big enough to seat a hundred warriors, turn right¡ªthat¡¯s probably where His Highness is stationed.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± Tuk shouted over her shoulder, sprinting away. Straight, right, left¡­ left¡­wait, was it the fourth pavilion or the fifth? Was there a flagpole before or after that? She huffed, the vest pressing the royal-sealed letter into her chest. Why did Nixon pick me for this errand?! I am bad at navigation! Her mind flashed with a vision of her boot connecting with Nixon¡¯s shin. When this is over, I¡¯ll kick his pompous¡ª! Ahead, she spotted a cluster of warriors on horseback, their mounts stamping and snorting, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase. The most important person should be in front, right? She weaved through them, her breath ragged and legs burning. The first face she saw at the front made her stomach drop.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Arrogant, yes. Handsome, no. Not the right arrogant jerk. ¡°Where¡¯s His Highness?¡± she muttered, scanning desperately to the left. Then she spotted him¡ªPrince Michaelli, riding his horse tall and princely with his typical, maddeningly smug posture. He seemed near yet somehow impossibly far, like a mirage of arrogance on horseback. ¡°Damn it,¡± she whispered. I took a wrong turn. Nixon¡¯s words buzzed in her head, his voice annoyingly crisp: ¡°Deliver this to His Highness before the third lap. Immediately.¡± Her eyes darted to the nearest stable. With a groan, she mounted the smallest horse she could find, though its size still felt absurd. Why did noble horses always seem as massive as carabaos? ¡°My lord, that horse belongs to Lord Recan¡ª¡± someone called out, their voice a mix of alarm and disbelief. ¡°Apologies! Urgent royal business!¡± Tuk shouted, digging her heels in and urging the horse forward. The ground shook beneath the rhythmic thunder of hooves. The wind whipped past her face as the horse broke into a gallop. Tuk barely had time to adjust; this horse was nothing like the ones she¡¯d ridden back at the club. A sudden trumpet blast startled the animal, and before she could steer it clear, it reared and surged forward with the wave of charging warriors. ¡°W-wait! Not that way!¡± Tuk yelped, pulling desperately at the reins. But the horse, evidently convinced it was a champion racer, ignored her. It barreled into the forest, keeping pace with the frenzied riders. The deeper they ventured, the more the forest seemed alive¡ªbranches twisting like skeletal fingers, shadows darting across the undergrowth, and the faint rustle of unseen creatures. Leaves slapped her face, branches clawed at her arms, and the smell of damp earth filled her nose. Tuk yanked the reins, finally halting the horse in a small clearing. She glanced around, her stomach sinking. Everywhere she looked was the same¡ªtangled vines, towering trees, and shifting shadows. ¡°I¡¯m lost,¡± she muttered, her voice flat with disbelief. She glared at the horse. ¡°You¡­ why did you have to follow those lunatics?¡± The horse flicked its ears dismissively, snorting as if to say, Not my fault you¡¯re a terrible navigator. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that attitude!¡± she snapped, rubbing her temples. Even the horse had an attitude. Of course, it does. It had been startled by the trumpet like a pampered royal hearing commoners. Tuk exhaled sharply, trying to calm her nerves. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s just go back the way we came,¡± she muttered, pulling the reins with the decisiveness of someone who was definitely not sure what they were doing. The horse, unimpressed by her leadership, plodded forward. But the deeper they ventured, the more the forest seemed to twist and morph, each step leading to an eerie sameness. ¡°Alright, horsy, I need you to channel your animal instinct and get us out of here. Otherwise, I¡¯ll paint your hooves rainbow and make you the laughingstock of the stables.¡± She shot a glare at the horse, who seemed unimpressed. Still, it snorted, pawed the ground, and took off suddenly. ¡°Too fast! TOO FAST!¡± Tuk shouted, bouncing wildly as she clung to the horse¡¯s mane, her fingers aching from the death grip. They swerved around a tree so wide it could house a small inn. ¡°Stop! STOP!¡± She tugged the reins frantically, and the horse reared, nearly sending her somersaulting over its head. She landed with an ungraceful thud, groaning as pain radiated from her backside, feeling her ponytail half undone and hair standing at odd angles. ¡°You little¡ª¡± Tuk¡¯s complaint died in her throat as something cold and slimy slithered down the back of her neck. ¡°Aaarrrgh!¡± She leapt up, flailing and clawing at her skin. The horse, startled by her outburst, bolted into the trees with a parting snort of good luck, fool. As she stomped around, still battling the phantom chill, her foot landed on something that gave a distinct, gut-wrenching crack. What now? The ground spun, and suddenly, the forest flipped upside down. Tuk found herself hanging in midair, leaves spinning around her like a mocking dance. ¡°Fantastic,¡± Tuk grumbled, swinging helplessly. ¡°This is just great.¡± Chapter 31: The Hunt Every Man Wants Michaelli listened to the rustling leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures. The canopy above cast shifting patterns across the forest floor as the royal hunters advanced with practiced stealth. The snort of a horse broke the tension, every ear pricked for the faintest sound. The Prince led the group astride a jet-black stallion, its muscles taut and coiled like a bowstring, mirroring its master¡¯s anticipation. This was no ordinary hunt¡ªthey sought the Onyxariel, the legendary black griffin. Its wings were said to stretch as vast as shadows, capable of blanketing the sky, with a golden beak gleaming brighter than any royal seal. ¡°Nightfall, let¡¯s go,¡± Michaelli muttered, urging his steed forward. To him, this was more than a hunt; it was prophecy taking shape. Tonight, I will claim the Onyxariel. ¡°Awoooo¡­¡± Michaelli raised his hand, signaling the group to halt. Silence swallowed the woods, thick and absolute. Then, a sharp, piercing cry shattered the stillness, reverberating like a spectral warning. Michaelli¡¯s grin turned predatory as he gestured for his riders to spread out. The thrill of the hunt coursed through his veins. ¡°It¡¯s close,¡± he whispered, his eyes gleaming with challenge. The air seemed to grow heavier, the forest holding its breath. ¡°Awoohuhu¡­¡± Michaelli froze mid-step. The sound, once fierce and wild, now wavered into a strange, whimpering wail. Suspicion replaced his thrill as he crept toward the source, dagger ready, senses razor-sharp. Leaves crunched underfoot as he carefully parted the branches. ¡°Awohuhu¡­aah! Your Highness? Oh, thank goodness!¡± Michaelli¡¯s jaw tightened. For a long moment, he simply stared, his sharp mind noting the oddity of the sound before he fully processed the sight in front of him. Dangling upside-down from a crude rope trap¡ªmeant for small hunt¡ªwas Tuk, his hapless advisor, swaying back and forth like a deranged pendulum. ¡°You¡­what are you doing up there?¡± His tone was flat, his patience hanging by a thread. ¡°I¡ªI was looking for you, Your Highness!¡± Tuk stammered, flailing slightly. ¡°But, uh¡­ first, could you help me get down? I think all the blood is rushing to my head.¡± Michaelli pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh so long and deep it seemed to ask the heavens for strength. Slowly, he unsheathed his dagger, tilting it lazily in Tuk¡¯s direction. ¡°Wait, Your Highness!¡± Tuk yelped, his eyes widening with alarm. ¡°You¡¯re not seriously going to throw that, are you?¡± Michaelli arched a brow, his expression neutral but his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Do you think so little of me? If I wanted you dead, you¡¯d already be on the ground.¡± He twirled the dagger deftly. ¡°Now hold still. I¡¯m an excellent shot¡ªwhen people don¡¯t wiggle.¡± ¡°It can kill me! I¡¯ll die both ways! If I fall headfirst¡ª¡± Before Tuk could finish his frantic protests, the woods shifted. A shadow passed overhead, blotting out the dappled light. A rush of wind swept through the trees, bending branches and sending a cascade of leaves swirling in gold and green. Michaelli¡¯s steed, Nightfall, whinnied and danced nervously, its hooves stamping into the earth. Michaelli stiffened, his grip tightening on the reins. His dagger lowered, momentarily forgotten as his sharp gaze swept the darkening sky. A low hum built in the air¡ªdeep and foreboding, like the rumble of distant thunder. ¡°Y-Your Highness¡­¡± Tuk¡¯s voice cracked as he pointed a trembling finger skyward. ¡°That¡¯s not a dragon, is it?¡± The Onyxariel descended, circling above them like a storm-given flesh. Its wings carved through the air with an ominous grace, sunlight glinting off dark feathers threaded with veins of gold. Its golden beak gleamed¡ªa warlord¡¯s crown forged for battle, fierce and unyielding. Tuk stared at the flying beast¡ªa creature that was clearly not a dragon but more like a lion with wings, its massive shadow blotting out the sunlight as it descended from the skies. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, with a resigned sigh and watery eyes, she muttered, ¡°Why is it always me?¡± Tuk, clinging desperately tried to hold to the rope that makes his body wave frantically. ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there! Do something!¡± he shouted desperately forgetting for a moment that he was talking to a prince, not a stupid friend. ¡°Calm down. You¡¯re perfectly safe.¡± ¡°Perfectly safe? It¡¯s LOOKING at me!¡± Tuk screeched as the griffin¡¯s sharp eyes locked onto her dangling form. The forest seemed to hold its breath as Tuk clung to the rope, legs swinging wildly. ¡°Oh no, no, no¡­¡± With a thunderous roar, Michaelli spurred Nightfall into the clearing, his gaze locking onto the griffin in a silent declaration of war. He raised his dagger, the obsidian runes along its surface glowing faintly. With a sharp command in an ancient tongue, the weapon shimmered, liquefying in his hands. The dark liquid writhed and twisted before solidifying into a gleaming sword. Without hesitation, Michaelli slashed the air, the blade humming with restrained power as he charged toward the beast. The Onyxariel twisted in mid-air, dodging his strike with infuriating grace. It dove, talons extended like jagged spears now aiming to the prince. Michaelli ducked just in time, the claws raking deep into the earth behind him. The beast lunged again, its wings stirring a gale that whipped through the clearing. Michaelli then took one step forward and swung his sword. The runes glowed faintly as the weapon rippled and reshaped in his hands, flowing like liquid metal. Michaelli narrowed his eyes, and his weapon rippled, shifting from a spear into a gleaming whip blade. The segmented metal extended and coiled like a serpent, glowing faintly as it responded to his movements.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Tuk blinked in disbelief. ¡°Okay, what the hell is happening.¡± The whipblade struck with precision, coiling around the griffin¡¯s talons. A furious roar echoed as the beast faltered, its wings churning the air into chaos. Michaelli pulled sharply, his movements fluid and unrelenting, dragging the Onyxariel into a spiraling descent. The griffin screeched, flapping its massive wings to regain control. Michaelli released the whipblade, letting it snap back into its sword form as the griffin lunged once more. Its beak came dangerously close to his head, but Michaelli ducked and countered with a sweeping arc of the blade, aiming for the exposed joint of its wing but it¡¯s feathers were tougher than he anticipated, deflecting the strike with a metallic clang. Above, Tuk dangled precariously from the rope, peeking down at the live fight unfolding beneath her. Michaelli moved with the precision of a dancer, his whipblade slicing through the air like a predator, every strike calculated to keep the beast at bay. Her eyes flicked between the prince and the griffin, catching a subtle shift in its movements, but her attention quickly returned to Michaelli. ¡°Why does he look so smug?¡± she muttered under her breath. The griffin lashed out with its beak, forcing Michaelli to leap back. He landed effortlessly, his smirk never faltering. ¡°Stop enjoying this!¡± Tuk yelled. Michaelli finally glanced her way, his tone laced with mocking amusement. ¡°I said stay still. Do you always talk this much? You''re as bothersome as a spoiled woman.¡± ''But I am a woman,'' Tuk thought, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, she pressed her lips together, deciding it was wiser to redirect her attention to the looming beast rather than engage in the prince¡¯s taunts. Suddenly, she froze. ¡°Wait¡­ why is it coming at me?!¡± she shrieked as the griffin¡¯s piercing gaze shifted and met hers, hanging helplessly from the rope. The creature''s wings flared as it prepared to strike. ¡°No¡­ go away!¡± Tuk yelled, thrashing against her bindings. Michaelli¡¯s smirk deepened, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as the Onyxariel lunged toward her. Yet, before it could reach its target, Michaelli intercepted it mid-charge. The whipblade in his hands rippled again, shortening and curving into a scythe-like blade. With a single sweeping arc, he clipped the beast¡¯s wing, sending a cascade of black diamond-like feathers raining down. From her vantage point, Tuk observed the way the Onyxariel moved. Her frantic mind caught something amidst the chaos¡ªthe subtle shift of its hind legs before each leap. Without thinking, she blurted out, ¡°Its balance! It shifts weight to its back legs before it strikes!¡± Michaelli¡¯s eyes darted briefly to the creature, then to Tuk, before a sharp smile tugged at his lips. ¡°Lucky guess,¡± he murmured. In one swift motion, his whipblade lashed out with deadly precision, severing the tendon of the Onyxariel¡¯s hind leg. The creature screeched in pain, its massive wings flailing as it faltered mid-flight. ¡°Now!¡± Michaelli growled, surging forward with the grace of a predator. He vaulted onto the griffin¡¯s back, his movements fluid despite the beast¡¯s violent thrashing. As the Onyxariel bucked wildly, Michaelli used its momentum, propelling himself higher toward a dangling figure bound by a thick, tangled rope. His weapon shifted seamlessly back into a dagger. With a single, decisive stroke, he severed the rope that held Tuk captive. She plummeted with a yelp, and before she could hit the ground, Michaelli caught her mid-air with a firm grip. But something made him falter. His hand pressed against her chest briefly, his fingers brushing something unexpected¡ªa shape too soft and out of place. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but he quickly adjusted, sliding his grip to her waist with practiced ease, his expression unreadable. Tuk, too stunned to speak, clung to his arm as he landed gracefully, her heart pounding from more than just the fall. Michaelli set her down but didn¡¯t release her immediately. His golden eyes lingered on her, sharp and searching, as though piecing together a puzzle. His smirk returned, slower this time, almost calculating. Tuk plummeted with a high-pitched yelp, only to land unceremoniously in Michaelli¡¯s arms. Her breath caught, unsure whether to feel proud or insulted by his dismissive response. ¡°You¡¯re welcome!¡± she called indignantly, though her heart was still racing. Michaelli glanced at her, the faintest glimmer of unknown hidden beneath his usual mask of arrogance. ¡°You¡¯re heavier than I thought,¡± he muttered as they landed safely. Tuk pouted. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly comforting, Your Highness.¡± ¡°You keep finding yourself in dangerous situations,¡± Michaelli remarked quietly, his tone unusually even. ¡°It¡¯s almost as if you¡¯re cursed.¡± She let out a dry laugh, but it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°Maybe I am.¡± For a fleeting moment, Michaelli paused, his gaze flickering toward her before he shifted his attention back to her bindings. ¡°Then stay closer next time,¡± he said curtly, letting the rope snap free on her feet. Tuk glared at him as she dusted herself off. ¡°Closer? So I can be bait again? Great plan, genius.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still alive. Against all odds, I might add,¡± Michaelli replied. ¡°Are you saying you care?¡± Tuk asked, narrowing her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m saying I¡¯d prefer not to carry you again.¡± Michaelli shot back, the faintest trace of a smirk playing at his lips as he turned back to the injured Onyxariel, already preparing for the final strike. Tuk clenched her fists, shooting a quick prayer to the heavens. ¡°For the love of god, please give me patience not to strike the back of his head. As tempting as it is¡­¡± she muttered under her breath. The Onyxariel let out one last, furious roar, dragging their attention back to the battlefield. Michaelli¡¯s grip tightened briefly before he let her go. ¡°Move back,¡± he commanded, his voice low and lethal as he turned back toward the beast with whipblade in hand. Sensing its imminent defeat, the griffin spread its battered wings, claws digging into the earth as it prepared for a final, desperate escape. ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t,¡± Michaelli growled, his weapon shifting fluidly into a bow, the transformation smooth as if it were an extension of his will. A black, viscous liquid oozed into the weapon¡¯s center, forming an arrow that pulsated like a heartbeat. With a sharp exhale, he fired. The arrow streaked through the air, its sleek form glinting in the light before twisting into a sinuous, living chain. It wrapped around the Onyxariel¡¯s neck with a serpentine grace, tightening with every thrash of the griffin¡¯s wings. The creature let out a guttural screech, wings flapping frantically but Michaelli stood firm. With a sharp yank on the chain, he dragged the beast back to the earth, its enormous body crashing into the dirt in a flurry of leaves and dust. The griffin struggled, its movements growing erratic as it tried to shake off its captor. Michaelli wasted no time. In one fluid motion, he surged forward, the chain in his hands dissolving back into the form of a sword. Its blade shimmered with a menacing, dark glow, humming with latent energy. The Onyxariel locked eyes with Michaelli, a final, defiant glare that promised revenge. But the prince was unrelenting. With one decisive strike, he drove the blade into the beast¡¯s chest, the impact reverberating through the clearing like a thunderclap. The Onyxariel let out a final, haunting cry, its voice echoing across the battlefield before it fell silent. Its colossal form slumped to the ground, lifeless, the forest eerily still in its wake. Standing atop its lifeless form, Michaelli surveyed the fallen creature, his hand brushing its dark feathers. His voice was quiet but firm. ¡°Strength like this shouldn¡¯t be wasted.¡± From behind a tree, Tuk peeked out, her hair a disheveled mess. ¡°Why do I have to watch this action scene instead of a romance arc?!¡± she muttered, half-hysterical. The warriors erupted into cheers, scrambling to claim feathers from the beast as trophies. Michaelli, ever composed, sheathed his weapon and turned to Tuk. She was slumped against the tree, glaring at him with her hair sticking out in every direction, like a ruffled bird caught in a storm. She really is like a little lark, he thought. So fragile, left on her own she wouldn¡¯t survive the wild. ¡°Get up,¡± Michaelli commanded, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. Tuk raised a hand weakly, her voice dripping with mock drama. ¡°Oh, no, Your Highness. Go on without me. Tell the court I died a noble death, trying to avoid¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re embarrassing yourself,¡± Michaelli interrupted, reaching down to pull her up unceremoniously. ¡°And me.¡± She yelped as he dragged her to her feet, glaring at him as she brushed off dirt and leaves. ¡°You could at least pretend to appreciate the sacrifices I make for your royal hunt agenda.¡± Michaelli smirked. ¡°Sacrifices? You were hanging from a tree.¡± Tuk crossed her arms, tilting her head toward the warriors who were now playfully arguing over who struck the first blow. ¡°Well, at least they appreciate me. I¡¯m basically their good-luck charm.¡± ¡°Good luck for them, maybe,¡± Michaelli quipped. Tuk gasped in mock offense, then grinned slyly. ¡°And here I thought you cared.¡± The prince shot her a sharp look, though the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. ¡°Care is a strong word. Let¡¯s stick with ¡®tolerate.¡¯¡± She laughed, shaking her head as the tension of the battle finally melted away. ¡°Well, Your Highness, if I¡¯m such a burden, maybe I should just stay behind next time.¡± Michaelli paused, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. ¡°Stay behind? And deprive me of the endless entertainment?¡± The warriors burst into laughter at this, having overheard the exchange. Tuk groaned, covering her face with her hands. One of the warriors with a similar feature to Bucky clapped her on the back, nearly knocking her over. ¡°Welcome to the team, Advisor! We¡¯re glad to have you!¡± Tuk stumbled, shooting a glare at Michaelli, who was already walking away, clearly satisfied with himself. She sighed, muttering under her breath, ¡°I really need to renegotiate my role in this mess.¡± As the group began to move out, the griffin¡¯s massive body left behind like a trophy, Tuk found herself chuckling despite it all. This wasn¡¯t the adventure she¡¯d expected, but somehow, it was starting to feel like her own. "What a cruel curse it is to be Isekai''d," Tuk thought silently, unaware that her trials were far from over. The secret he had carefully concealed would soon surface, and the one who uncovered it was the very person she feared most¡ªthe one she never wanted to know. What will become of Tuk when everything unravels? Stay tuned to find out. Chapter closed¡ªfor now. But don¡¯t worry, the journey is far from over. See you in February with more twists, turns, and surprises! Until then, stay safe and take care! ??