“I’m the only one who can read the scrolls easily—at 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—or 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 façade. “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.

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, trying to understand the cryptic message. “These are the exact words from the scrolls,” I continued, glancing up to see his reaction. “But this, I can’t decipher what it means.”

The prince’s expression shifted from shock to deep thought. The silence between us grew thick, as if the weight of the mysterious phrase was a challenge that needed solving.

“If these characters are hard for me to understand,” I said, my voice firm, “it will take others years to figure them out. You can lie during the interrogation tomorrow. I’m not sure how the prince will do it, but he said he’ll make you talk personally.”

The prince sneered, a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Ha! How arrogant!”

I leaned closer, my tone serious. “I’ll tell him I failed to negotiate with you. When it’s his turn, tell him the scroll doesn’t belong to you—it belongs to the princess.”

“Why should I do that?” he snapped, suspicion evident in his voice.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “They won’t be able to find your sister for days. I’m telling you this so I can help you escape safely.”

He looked at me, doubt still in his eyes. I knew it wasn’t easy to trust a stranger, especially in such a dire situation. But it was crucial for my plan to work. “If you don’t say those words,” I warned, “I can’t help you. The prince thinks ‘the heart’ in the scrolls is a literal heart. He’s been collecting and dissecting the hearts of those he thinks to own the scrolls. If you die, it won’t be long before your sister is caught.”

His face hardened. “I won’t let my sister be dragged into this. It will only put her in more danger.” His protective instincts were admirable but also clouded his judgment.

Frustration bubbled up inside me, but I kept my cool. “I know, but that’s not the point! We’re just buying time to keep you safe. Do you understand my plan? If you die, who will protect your sister? She’s lucky I found her yesterday. Do you really think she can survive running and hiding in the woods?”

I watched as my words began to sink in, the reality of the situation starting to hit him.

“How can I trust your plan? There's a possibility that my heart will be gone by then,” he asked, his voice quieter now but still uncertain.

“Listen,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I have these pills that can stop your heart for a few minutes but heal you faster than any normal elixir. After the prince beats you, I’ll give you one of these pills. It’ll look like you died from his interrogation. I'll take care of your body and how you escape after that is up to you.”

The prince’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clear on his face. “How sure are you they won’t suspect my death?”

I leaned back, giving him a knowing look. “I’ve never met anyone who survived the prince's interrogation and lived more than a week.”

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—not now.

'Come on! I spent almost all my money on that pill,' I desperately plead in my mind.

He stared at me, his mind racing as he considered my proposal. The silence stretched until he finally spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“What’s your name?”

“What?” I asked, surprised by the sudden shift in topic.

“I need to know your name and swear an oath of trust between us,” the prince said seriously.

“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?” I replied.

“It matters to us knights who rely on trust,” he said firmly. I hesitated. Giving someone your name was like handing them a thread—one 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, second son and prince of Homonhon. As a knight of the empire, I trust this fellow Sunniva and will help her decode the words in return for helping me.” He spoke solemnly as if making a vow to a god. 

“Are you done?” I asked when he finished.

Silence stretched between us until he finally spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “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.

📜

ʘⲠ𝖫𝖸 7#❍53 ᗵ#❍ '----------' ☽4Ⲡ 637 1Ⲡ7❍ 7#3 7ⲅⵡ7# ❍= ᗵ#47 7#3𝖸 ☥351ⲅ3. 〒#ⵡ5, 4𝖫𝖫 ᑭ❍ᗵ3ⲅ 4Ⲡ☥ ᗵ34𝖫7# ᗵ1𝖫𝖫 83 641Ⲡ3☥ ᗵ17#❍ⵡ7 4 8ⲅ❍|<3Ⲡ ᗶ1Ⲡ☥.

Translate:

Only those who 'learn the heart' can get into the truth of 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 said, stepping closer. I placed my hand gently on his chest.

“⧨3Ⲡ1 4☥ ᗶ3.” The ancient words slipped from my tongue—a phrase I’d encountered in one of the scrolls. If the power truly existed, then perhaps this word was the key to unlocking it. But all that emerged was a faint glimmer of light, like a weary firefly struggling to glow. This must be the power the prince senses, I thought, or perhaps just a reluctant spark.

“What are you doing?” the prince asked, confusion and suspicion mixing in his tone, as if he couldn’t decide whether I was crazy or had a strange hobby.

'He's probably not the one with the key.' The realization hit me like a brick, but I kept my cool, fighting the urge to groan in frustration.

“I was told your royal family has two sons and one daughter. Is that true?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

His face darkened, like someone had switched off the last light of his happiness. “My brother died protecting the border, along with my parents. So, it’s just my sister and me now.”

“So, she’s the one with the heart problem,” I said, more to myself than to him. His silence was confirmation enough.

“Silence means yes,” I murmured, piecing it together like a puzzle that finally made sense. “Why do you want to know?” His voice was wary now, trying to figure out if I was a dangerous ally or a complete lunatic.

“If my theory is correct,” I said, urgency creeping into my voice, “then His Highness must never get ahold of your sister.” Panic surged through me. How did I almost miss this?

The prince stared, confusion mixed with reluctant admiration. It seemed I’d stumbled onto something important, even in my chaotic reasoning.

“That’s what I’m trying to prevent!” he snapped, his frustration palpable.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed closer. Panic tightened its grip on me. In a rush ,I grabbed his collar, yanking him close enough to feel his breath on my cheek. 'Listen carefully,' I whispered, the weight of my words anchoring us in this precarious alliance.

“Richard, Prince of Homonhon—when you ‘die,’ I’ll place a bottle in your pocket. Spray it over yourself when you wake up. The scent will help you escape into the woods and lose His Highness’s people trail for at least a day. They’ll believe you died in interrogation. I’ll make sure all traces of you are gone.”

His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—suspicion, confusion, and a glimmer of trust.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the playground—that’s what your sister left for you. Don’t make me regret this,” I whispered, my voice barely masking the tremor of doubt that snaked through me. My fingers clenched tighter around Richard’s collar, the fabric rough and unyielding under my hands. His pulse beat erratically beneath my thumb, a stark reminder of what I was about to risk—for both of us.

I forced my hand to steady. This was the only way. The prince of Marceau wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted, and Richard didn’t stand a chance against his fury. But even now, as the plan unfolded in my mind, I couldn’t shake the gnawing thought: What if I was wrong?

Richard’s eyes locked onto mine, searching for assurance I didn’t have the strength to give. His trust weighed heavily on me, a burden I hadn’t fully anticipated. What if the medicine didn’t work? What if stopping his heart wasn’t enough to fool them?

I leaned in closer, my voice barely above a breath. “We only get one shot at this,” I added, just as the guard appeared.

“Hey, visit’s over. They need you upstairs,” the guard warrior barked.

“This is pointless,” I growled, shoving the prince away with a feigned irritation, storming out to sell the act.

'I’m almost there. Just a little more, and I might finally go back!' My pulse quickened, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum. I felt a tremor run through my hands, but I clenched my fists to steady them. There was no turning back now.

As I emerged from the dungeon, a familiar voice called out, “Tuk! You’re safe!” It was Sire Leon, his voice thick with relief as he hurried toward me.

I was glad to see everyone alive, but the weariness etched on their faces spoke of how hard it had been to survive. “Leon, everyone... I’m glad you all made it,” I said, pushing Leon’s head away playfully as he leaned in for a hug. “But I can’t say we’re really safe just yet. We’ve got a problem with the scroll.”

The group fell silent, tension creeping into the air.

“W-what do you mean?” Marco asked, his voice trembling slightly. I could see the worry written on all their faces as they absorbed my words.

“See this?” I revealed a small scratch on my neck, a parting gift from yesterday’s encounter. “The prince gave me this.”

Their faces paled as the implications sank in.

“Should we heal our wounds before we go collecting new ones?” I said sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood as I led them toward the clinic.

The war was over, but the scars it left behind would take time to heal—or so I thought. Strangely, my wounds and scratches healed within just a few days. It was so fast, I started to wonder—are their doctors even normal doctors, or magical healers? Or is it because of the ointment they used? Could their medicine be more advanced than ours?

I'm so stupid! Now that I think about it, all their products seem familiar, like things from my own world. So, does that mean the elixir from the black market could actually be real? I can’t help but feel guilty for experimenting on the prince, but if it works like the seller promised, that would be amazing. If not... well, Plan B it is hehe.

But seriously, what kind of era is this? If I’d known I’d end up here, I would’ve researched the isekai thing properly instead of just casually reading and watching stuff about it. Now I’m stuck, with no clue what I’m doing. I guess I have no choice but to go with the flow... even if that flow turns into a storm.

Marceau had emerged as the sole ruler of the land, and with that came the promise of sweeping changes. I’d taken too many risks, made too many reckless gambles. But how much longer can I keep this up? I tried to push the thought away, but it lingered, unsettling and insistent: Would I survive the changes that were coming, or would they swallow me whole?