1. CHAPTER 04

“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“And if I’m not? Even if I stayed, what could a kid like me have done other than become someone else’s burden? If you think I should’ve stayed and died just because I’m of royal blood, then I don’t know what to say.”

You were just a child back then. No matter how amazing you were, you were still just a little kid.

Despite his attempt to provoke her, the princess responded with the same calm indifference.

“I knew that much.”

“Then why—!”

Why even ask? You’re just making me feel guilty!

“But… Governor, are you mad?”

“I am not.”

“You seemed upset.”

“I was not upset.”

“You know how sometimes you can kind of tell something’s off, but you’re not exactly sure what? Like, is it just a little bland or really bland? Should I add salt? Or is it just tasteless? That kind of thing. I can tell—just not exactly.”

“What are you even—”

You “know”? And what exactly are you comparing me to?

As Claude tried to suppress an unexplainable sense of frustration, she added in a more thoughtful tone, as if offering an excuse:

“Still, I thought there might be more to it than just justification or duty.”

Justification, my foot.

“If we’re talking justification, then that makes your actions even more wrong.”

“Oh, does it?”

“If you died, the bloodline of Izariz ends with you. If there’s any hope of reviving the nation, we have to make sure you survive. The heir is the symbol of unity and hope.”

Claude fired off his arguments point by point, then looked like he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

After all, he was supposed to crush her spirit, steal her land, and claim her birthright.

Why did I go and say all that?

And why was she looking at him like that?

Making me uncomfortable, seriously.

Realizing Claude’s odd internal struggle, Terry went quiet for a moment.

It was oddly comforting to see someone who cared enough to argue back, get flustered, and even feel guilty—especially about things she had long since grown numb to.

Grateful in a strange way, she gave him a faint smile when their eyes met. Claude, however, immediately turned his head away.

“Please forgive me. I’m not very good with words.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

More than understand. As someone who was plopped into an unfamiliar world, if she couldn’t trust the protagonist, who could she trust? She needed to stay on good terms with him if she ever wanted to get back home.

Claude seemed like he had more complaints about how quickly she forgave him, but he dropped it and continued.

“Let go of the past. Focus on the people who are still alive.”

“The people who are alive?”

“You seem unaware, so I’ll say this: there are survivors—here in the hotel, and in the herbalist’s district. They’ve made it. They’re living their lives. Go see for yourself.”

The hotel, sure—but what was the herbalist’s district?

Terry racked her brain trying to recall anything like that from the game, but no matter how hard she tried, that name never came up.

“Where is it?”

“East of the old city. It’s in ruins. Most of the remaining Izariz people have gathered there. You can think of it as a refugee settlement.”

The princess might not have been a welcome sight to Claude, but to the mages, it would be a different story.

Those prickly, arrogant mages might end up bawling their eyes out.

Now that would be something worth teasing them about. Claude licked his lips in regret, only for Terry to suddenly ask:

“When are you free?”

“…Free?”

Free? My time? Why?

“Why do you ask—”

“You told me to go see it.”

“And why exactly are you asking me about my schedule?”

“You said to ask if I needed help, remember?”

Wait, don’t tell me… with me? Together?

His eyes flickered with panic.

“I don’t know the way. I’ve never even heard of the herbalist’s district. And I don’t know anyone here.”

So now I’m your closest acquaintance? Claude looked like he wanted to argue, but unfortunately, it was true.

The person Terry felt most familiar and comfortable with in this world was none other than him—her protagonist.

He took a deep breath and gave a clean, decisive refusal.

“If I go there, I’ll be killed.”

“Killed…? Oh. Right.”

“Even imperial knights avoid going near that place. If I show up, they’ll come running with their staffs ready.”

“To bash your head in?”

“…Must you put it so bluntly?”

That place was home to diehard Izariz loyalists—the real, hardcore mages—who saw Claude as nothing more than an invader. If he showed up, they’d treat him like prey in a lion’s den and try to roast him with magic.

Which was completely understandable. The princess here was the odd one out.

That was close.

Always a staunch protagonist supporter, Terry almost forgot her new role.

Princess and knight.

In other stories, maybe that turned into romance. But not in this game.

If anything, she should’ve poisoned his juice and tried to assassinate him. Or at least slapped him, or glared.

And I did nothing.

And then, to top it off, she yawned wide.

“Ah, sorry. That was rude. I barely slept last night.”

“Of course. You were busy killing things.”

Claude replied flatly, as if he knew everything.

“You handled quite a few of them in the forest.”

“Well, that’s because—”

She’d fought them before. She’d beaten them countless times.

The moment she clicked “YES” with the mouse, her screen had gone black and she’d been dropped into the middle of the forest.

Without knowing what was happening, she fought off monsters in a desperate frenzy, saved a bloodied elf, and eventually found her way to town by piecing together her memory.

Thankfully, she’d encountered almost all the monsters at least twenty times before.

She knew their weak spots, where to land critical hits—enough to survive.

Though I wasn’t hunting alone.

An unhinged elf with a murderous streak had definitely helped.

“You’re not hurt, are you? Though you look healthy enough without me having to ask.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then whose blood was that?”

The question was sudden, completely out of context.

“The elf’s.”

Terry answered without hesitation.

“There was an injured elf with me.”

Claude seemed suspicious at how easily she admitted it, but Terry kept going.

“Probably a high elf. I saw high-level spirits following him.”

“An elf… here?”

“They must’ve had their reasons. I don’t know what they were doing there, though.”

“Do you know them?”

“No. Never met them before.”

Then why are you talking like you do?

Claude’s expression said it all. Terry gave a small chuckle.

“Consider it my payment. I did bug them a lot.”

She thought back to that elf—Izriel.

“Though to call it a ‘meeting’ would be a stretch.”

She’d picked up his dagger mid-battle, got cursed out, returned it, and happened to head the same way for a while.

Even then, he’d been spitting venom the whole time.

A key NPC who shifted between ally and enemy. Terry had recognized him at a glance and wisely kept her head down.

“I’ll pay the rest of the price later. Maybe I’ll have another chance.”

She glanced at the sword hanging at Claude’s waist, and he instinctively turned his torso to shield it.

“Let’s get along, okay? I think I’ll need a lot of help. But I’ll be helpful to you, too.”

Just that morning, she’d been drowning in despair—but now, she allowed herself a bit of hope.

If this man could take down the dragon—if she could help him do that—then maybe she could finish the game and return home. Like always, she just had to grit her teeth and survive.

What is this? Why are we teaming up now?

Claude was genuinely flustered. The princess’s sudden declaration of partnership hit him like a truck.

He stood up abruptly, as if trying to flee.

“I’ve overstayed. I really must go. I have a mountain of work waiting—”

He added a half-hearted excuse as he tried to escape, but the princess didn’t get the hint and followed after him.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m seeing you off.”

Seeing me off? You’ve got to be kidding me.

He made it clear he preferred to be alone, but she still cheerfully waved him to the door.

Once he escaped this swirling mess of emotions, he’d be free. Claude braced himself, about to leap down the descending steps—

Then her hand reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait!”

What now?!

“If I want to see you again, where should I contact you?”

She didn’t ask “Can I contact you?”—she asked where.

Did she think he was her personal assistant?

But he had no right to say no. He was the one who’d started this whole mess with his big mouth.

He’d offered help. He’d started teasing.

For the first time in his life, Claude was asked for his address by a woman.

She handed him a pen and a tablecloth she’d hurriedly grabbed.

And there, on that crumpled bit of fabric, he reluctantly scrawled out his address, one painstaking letter at a time.