The room felt like a pressure cooker ready to explode. Rowell’s voice trembled as he read from the scroll, his eyes flicking nervously toward the prince. We sat at a long, ornate table, the only sound was the soft, rhythmic tapping of the prince’s fingers on the wood. Each tap sent a jolt down my spine, the tension building with every beat.

When Rowell finished, the prince leaned back, eyes narrowing at the scroll as if he were dissecting it. “So, it’s about this heart again,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice low and sharp. His expression was chillingly calm, like someone solving a puzzle that had lives hanging in the balance. The air in the room thickened, the walls seeming to close in with his ominous words.

“All the previous holders of these scrolls had their hearts pulled out as you all suggested,” he continued, his voice as casual as if he were commenting on the weather. “And we’re still empty-handed.” His gaze swept over us like a predator surveying its prey. “Do you know what that means?”

My stomach churned. 'Hearts pulled out? Who the heck suggested that?!' I felt sick. 'These people—these monsters!' Panic surged through me, but I forced myself to stay still, knowing the smallest misstep could seal my fate.

The prince’s lips curled into a twisted smile. "It means the heart we need is in the Homonhon Empire. The right path is in there," he declared, almost too eagerly, his eyes gleaming with a madness I hadn’t seen before. Why this obsession with a heart? Was it truly a key to the power he sought, or had the scrolls twisted his mind beyond reason? Either way, his satisfaction made my stomach turn. Lives would be lost, and for what? A myth? A legend? No, there had to be more to it—something darker that he wasn’t sharing.

“Nixon, prepare the warriors. We’re heading to Homonhon,” the prince commanded, his tone flat and unyielding, like this was just another day at court.

Nixon bowed, his expression as cold as the prince’s. “As you wish, Your Highness.” He left without another word, leaving the rest of us to grapple with the brutal reality: we were heading into a bloody war.

I tried to swallow the panic rising in my throat, but it stuck like a lump of stone, unmoving. My hands trembled under the table, nails digging into my palms to keep them still. I wanted to say something, but the prince’s gaze pinned me down, cold and merciless, and I knew. There was no escape. Any wrong word or misstep would end me here, now, and I’d be nothing more than another forgotten casualty in his path to power. I had to survive—somehow. But how much more of myself could I lose before there was nothing left?

I needed that last piece of the puzzle. If I had to drain my funds and risk my life to infiltrate the black market, so be it. In this world, survival meant becoming like them—cunning, ruthless, calculating. It was the only way to stay alive.

As the time for the attack drew near, the tension in the palace was suffocating. Warriors in red capes moved with precision, their preparations for battle a terrifying display of military power. The clanging of weapons, the synchronized march of feet—it was all a relentless reminder of the storm we were about to face.

The emperor’s farewell had been grim, his voice weighed down with the reality of war, while I was still questioning 'what I was doing?'. His words echoed in my mind, a dark omen of what was to come. We were heading straight into hell.

I was placed in the second group, trailing behind the prince. My heart raced as I looked out at the endless desert. The sand stretched out like a barren wasteland, broken only by the silhouette of the distant palace. It looked like a mirage, barely visible through the shimmering heat. The desert, with its random waterfalls dotting the landscape, was like someone’s bizarre idea of a resort in hell.

“Seriously, where do those waterfalls even come from?” I muttered, coughing as the swirling dust made my throat burn.

Months of living on edge had worn me down to nothing. I was running on fumes, trying to survive in this insane world. Adapting to it felt like teaching a cat to fetch—pointless and exhausting. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had figured out I was a woman yet. Was I that good at pretending, or were they just that clueless? It was a circus of madness, and I couldn’t decide which was worse—my Oscar-worthy deception or their utter oblivion.

My eyes wandered over the desert landscape, its endless sands stretching out like the empty days of my old life. This was the first time I saw the landscape properly, and it felt like a dream now—the simplicity of it all. I used to work from home, and never leave unless it was necessary. But that day was special. To chase down a pair of luxury shoes, I went out of my house. Back then, my biggest concern was getting the right size for my feet. Now? Now I was surrounded by soldiers, with no way out of this nightmare. How did my life spiral so far out of control?

After what felt like an eternity, the barren desert gave way to an unexpected paradise—lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and ripe fruits surrounded us. It was as if we had walked into a Canadian autumn. The contrast from the endless desert was jarring. The warriors quickly set up camp, scavenging for food and water, while I silently slipped away to find some peace.

Exhausted, I collapsed under a large tree by a glistening lake. My reflection in the water felt like an illusion. 'So this is what I look like as a warrior?' I don't know if I was brave or just a fool to act and be part of this war. 'Ha, Whatever!' For a brief moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the calm, though the absurdity of it all quickly snapped me back.

"This isn’t what I imagined," I muttered, my mind drifting to the Isekai stories I used to binge. In those tales, the protagonists had better luck—they landed in worlds where they were powerful or privileged. Meanwhile, I was just a normal woman, stuck in my own body, surrounded by people I had to outsmart to survive. "At least those heroes had money. What do I have? A headache and a bunch of new muscles!"

I watched the prince retreat into the camp, my nerves still frayed from our brief encounter. The weight of his gaze lingered like a bruise. Before I could gather my thoughts, I heard a splash. Leon appeared out of nowhere, and without saying a word, he began stripping down, tossing his clothes carelessly on the shore. My mind struggled to catch up with the sudden change of scene. One moment, I was inches from a gruesome death, and the next... Leon was happily diving into the lake like a carefree child, as if we weren’t on the brink of war.

"..."

I froze. The hell? My eyes widened in shock as more historians and warriors joined in, casually undressing and jumping into the water. They didn’t even glance my way, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh god, why am I seeing this? My eyes...!" My inner scream echoed in my head as I shut my eyes too late. The image was already burned into my memory—muscles, bodies, and way too much... anatomy.

Leon’s cheerful voice called out, "Tuk! Come in! The water’s great!"

My stomach dropped. 'That idiot!' I screamed internally, desperately trying to keep a straight face as warriors waved me over like they were in some sort of shampoo commercial. They gleamed in the sun, their muscles and sun-kissed skin looking like they belonged in a magazine. But I couldn’t stop my brain from focusing on the more... unflattering details.

"I’m fine!" I shouted back, forcing a smile. "I’ll wash up later. I just want to rest!" With numb feet, I started crawling away, trying not to cry over the ridiculousness of it all. Damn it! The water was so clear. I saw... things. A collection of variously shaped, long, thick mushrooms... burned into my brain forever.

Just as I thought I had escaped, I froze. A pair of boots blocked my path. I looked up slowly, dreading what I’d see. It was the prince.

"What are you doing?" His voice cut through the air, cold and measured.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Oh, thank the gods, he's still wearing clothes! I didn’t need another traumatic memory today.

"I... I was just..." Think, think! "...admiring the grass?" I blurted, grabbing a handful as if that would somehow make my excuse more believable. "What about you, Your Highness? What brings you here?" I cringed internally, wishing I could disappear.

His gaze was sharp and unamused. "Do I need to report my every move to you?" he replied, his voice laced with arrogance, as if the very idea of him explaining himself was beneath him.

"N-no, of course not, Your Highness." I plastered a smile on my face, even though I was cursing him in my head. "Please, go ahead."

He shot me one last look before turning and walking away. Only then did I allow myself to breathe, stabbing at the grass in frustration.

This all happened because of the damn scrolls in the Homonhon Empire. Why were they so important to the prince? He was already in power, so why was he making everyone miserable over a bunch of ancient words? From what I could understand, the scrolls talked about dragons and power, but it’s not like the power was literally inside someone’s heart, right? What was his obsession with this? Could it make me levitate? Could it send me back home? Why were Jejemon characters even involved in all this?

I shook my head. I didn’t have time to dwell on these questions. Hiding my identity was getting harder by the day, and on top of that, I couldn’t even bathe with all these naked men around. I’d have to wait until they fell asleep and hope the water wasn’t too cold by then.

Several Hours Later

“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.

“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—if 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—my 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—that 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—it 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 confused too—some 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 people? 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—acting out would only make things worse and draw unwanted attention.

After what felt like an eternity of endless walking, we finally stumbled out of the forest into a barren, icy wasteland. Snow mixed with sand crunched underfoot, the air bitterly cold despite the glaring sun overhead. I’d lost track of how many days had passed since we left the palace. The warriors around me marched tirelessly, unbothered by the grueling journey, while I felt like I was slowly dying in heavy armor, each step more agonizing than the last.

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 the pain to stop—whether by battle or by the cold, I wasn’t picky.

Suddenly, the commander’s voice pierced the freezing air. "Heads up, warriors! Anytime now, the battle will begin. Keep your spirits high and show them the strength of the prince’s warriors! FOR THE EMPIRE!"

"FOR THE EMPIRE!!!" the warriors roared in unison, their voices a wave of determination.

Meanwhile, all I could think was, The end.

Please let this end.