A grand and magnificent performance echoed through the ceiling of the temple. Sunlight streaming through the stained glass cast brilliant shadows across the floor.
Caliton gently clasped my hand. After gazing at me with warm eyes, he turned his attention to the Pope.
As if sensing that he was ready, the Pope, his hair streaked with gray, opened his mouth.
“His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Caliton Greylheart, are you prepared to take Lady Aisha Amberbier as your bride?”
“I am prepared.”
This time, the Pope looked toward me.
“Lady Aisha Amberbier, are you prepared to take His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Caliton Greylheart as your groom?”
“Yes.”
I answered immediately, without hesitation. There was no need to say how long I had been waiting for this moment.
Soon, the priests brought forward goblets filled with wine.
“The bride and groom shall drink the wine.”
At the Pope’s words, Caliton and I crossed our arms and drained the goblets together.
“With this, I officially declare that His Highness Caliton Greylheart and Lady Aisha Amberbier are now the Crown Prince and Princess of the Belcadia Empire—”
“Cough!”
At that moment, Caliton coughed up blood.
“Ai… sha…”
The hand that had been holding mine fell limply into the air.
What… is this?
I stared blankly at Caliton as he collapsed like a crumbling sandcastle.
The moment he fell, screams erupted all around.
“Ahhh!”
“Guards! Where are the guards?!”
“His Highness the Crown Prince has collapsed!”
“Your Highness, are you alright?!”
“Prince Caliton!”
Chaos broke out. The guards began sealing off the temple entrances, while the nobles, thrown into confusion, shouted in panic.
A royal physician rushed to Caliton’s side. He placed his fingers beneath Caliton’s nose.
“H-he… His Highness the Crown Prince has been poisoned!”
At the physician’s cry, a familiar system window appeared before my eyes.
[GAME OVER]
Staring blankly at the system window, I muttered a curse under my breath.
“Damn it…”
I angrily pressed the power button on the game and threw the console aside.
“What kind of trash game is this?!”
This game, Chronicles of Starlight, was a dating simulation where the protagonist, an apprentice mage, pursued five male characters.
But maybe it was the curse of being single since birth, or just the absurd difficulty—every time I played, the male characters didn’t just reject me, they didn’t even show the slightest interest.
‘Does it even make sense that I couldn’t capture a single one in a whole month?’
At this point, it felt less like a dating sim and more like a test of patience.
Driven to frustration, I eventually created a cheat. I maxed out the protagonist’s charm stat.
After that, the male leads who had never fallen for me before started dropping one after another.
It was frustrating to realize it had been this easy all along after all that suffering, but I didn’t care.
At least, not until I reached the endings.
When I pursued the holy knight, the temple burned him at the stake for violating their doctrine against romantic love.
My fiancé, a former imperial knight, developed severe paranoia and killed any man who spoke to me—only to be executed.
And that wasn’t all.
The imperial mage killed me and preserved my body so he could “keep me forever.”
I got murdered by a villainess who was in love with the northern duke.
The game didn’t just kill the male characters—it killed the player too.
Out of the five targets, Crown Prince Caliton was my last hope for an ending.
And he had just died.
“Aaagh! What even is this?! Are they messing with me?!”
I had spent a total of three months on this game!
Alright, fine. I admit it—I used cheats.
But even so, if I couldn’t clear a single route out of five, wasn’t that basically telling me not to play the game?
Furious, I sent an email to the game company.
You call this a game? Even I could make something better with my feet.
(rest omitted)
As someone in the same industry, it wasn’t exactly something I should’ve done, but if I didn’t vent like this, all those months I’d wasted on the game would feel meaningless.
Feeling a bit refreshed, I lay down on my bed and tried to sleep.
Maybe tomorrow I should try going after the northern duke, Jerome, again?
As long as I avoided the villainess, I should be able to survive and reach the ending…
I can… probably…
My fading consciousness was swallowed by darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in an unfamiliar place.
“Where am I…?”
It wasn’t my room.
A high ceiling, white walls. Luxurious decor in purple and gold. Neatly arranged magical tools and books.
It looked like something straight out of a fantasy set, and it gave me a strange sense of déjà vu.
“I’ve definitely seen this somewhere before. This is just like—”
I picked up the nameplate on the desk. Strange foreign letters were engraved on it.
For some reason, I could read them.
“Rowell Ciprian?”
Rowell Ciprian was one of the capture targets in Chronicles of Starlight. And this place—it looked exactly like his study from the game.
Was I kidnapped?
Did the developers, offended by my angry email, recreate the set and lock me in here?
But there was no way a company would go that far just for one angry commenter.
More than anything…
I could read the unfamiliar text.
Countless thoughts swirled in my head.
After a moment of hesitation, I shut my eyes tight and shouted:
“Status window!”
Nothing happened.
“……”
Figures—no, wait. Then where the hell am I?
Half disappointed, half panicked, I hurriedly looked around again—
Ding!
With a familiar notification sound, a status window appeared before my eyes.
========================
Basic Information
Name: Aisha
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Race: Human
Occupation: None
Stats
Strength: LV.1
Stamina: LV.1
Mana: LV.1
Charm: LV.999
Skills
Seduction: LV.999
Affection
??? : 0
??? : 0
??? : 0
??? : 0
??? : 0
========================
My jaw dropped.
‘This… is a real status window?’
Everything felt too vivid to be a dream.
Did I actually get transported into the game? Did the developer curse me or something?
More importantly… how do I get back? Do I just reach the ending? That’s how it usually works in transmigration novels, right?
Wait.
‘I’ve never actually reached an ending.’
Whenever I played, either the male characters died or the protagonist died.
Which meant—I had no idea how to clear the game.
‘What happens if I fail while I’m inside it?’
…Do I die?
A chill ran down my spine, and I shook my head quickly.
No. I’ll clear it properly!
Forcing myself to stay positive, I began thinking through the game’s targets one by one.
I didn’t want to get turned into a preserved corpse, so the obsessive mage was out.
I didn’t want to watch someone burn alive, so the holy knight was out.
The paranoid fiancé who became a murderer was also out.
That left two: the crown prince who died at the wedding, and the northern duke who had a dangerous woman obsessed with him.
The former meant dealing with political forces. The latter meant dealing with a single person.
Facing some unknown large-scale conspiracy was too much. Dealing with one villainess seemed far more manageable.
Alright. I’ll go for the northern duke.
Just as I made my decision, the study door opened.
A slender, handsome elf walked in.
‘Rowell Ciprian.’
The very first character the protagonist meets—the one who becomes her magic teacher.
Seeing his beautiful face, mysterious violet eyes, and elegantly long eyelashes in person was breathtaking.
I stared at him in a daze… then slapped my cheek inwardly.
Rowell Ciprian was a twisted guy who turned people into preserved specimens. I couldn’t be fooled by his looks.
Right then, having finished reading a letter, Rowell spoke in a gentle voice.
“It is indeed my disciple Brion’s handwriting.”
There was a hint of melancholy in his tone.
“The lifespan of humans is truly fleeting.”
He lifted his gaze from the letter.
“The lady’s name is…?”
The moment our eyes met, he stopped speaking.
At the same time, a system message appeared.
[Rowell Ciprian’s affection has increased by 15.]
[Rowell Ciprian’s affection: 15]
He was the only one who started with affection like this.
Love at first sight or something?
Whatever. I had zero intention of pursuing a corpse-collecting maniac, so he could calm down.
“Your name is Aisha. According to the letter, you are an orphan from the countryside whom Brion took in. Is that correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Brion requested that I take you as my disciple.”
Rowell set the letter down.
“Before that, let us conduct a test.”
He brought over a flowerpot. Inside was a red bud dotted with small blue spots.
“This plant blooms only when infused with mana.”
With a snap of his fingers, the blue dots began to glow faintly.
“Use your mana to make the flower bloom.”
He took out an hourglass and added:
“If you fail to make it bloom before the sand runs out, the flower will explode.”
Since the game always began after becoming Rowell’s disciple, this was a mandatory trial.
I placed my hand over the bud and tried to channel mana—but nothing happened.
Of course not.
‘My mana is only Level 1.’
I had dumped all my stats into charm and never thought to level anything else.