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—all 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.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

'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—" I stopped, realizing something scary but still hopeful. The bloody ground, the dead bodies everywhere—it 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—a 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—a 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—if I could figure it out in time. I tried to remember what I discovered these past few months:

📜

Inscribe: 𝖫❍57 5❍ⵡ𝖫 ᗵ#❍ 𝖫❍❍|< 7#𝖸 ᑭ𝖫4☽3, 74|<3 4 ᑭ13☽3 4Ⲡ☥ 6ⵡ1☥3 ᗵ17# 4 6𝖫1ᗶᑭ53. 𝖫37 7#3 6ⲅ347 ☥ⲅ46❍Ⲡ 6ⵡ4ⲅ☥ 𝖸❍ⵡⲅ ᑭ𝖫4☽3 4Ⲡ☥ 17 ᗵ1𝖫𝖫 5#❍ᗵ 𝖸❍ⵡ 7#3 ⲅ16#7=ⵡ𝖫 5ᑭ4☽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—a 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: |, ᗵ#❍ #❍𝖫☥ 7#3 ᗵ34𝖫7# 4Ⲡ☥ ᑭ❍ᗵ3ⲅ ❍= 7#3 ᗶ16#7𝖸 ❍Ⲡ3. B𝖫3553☥ 34☽# ᑭ13☽35 7❍ 7#3 57ⲅ❍Ⲡ6 #34ⲅ7. ᗵ17# 4 ᑭⲅ❍ᗶ153 81Ⲡ☥ 1Ⲡ ᗶ𝖸 #4Ⲡ☥, Ⲡ❍ ᗶ4Ⲡ ᗵ17# 4 51Ⲡ=ⵡ𝖫 #34ⲅ7 ☽4Ⲡ #❍𝖫☥ 7#3 ᑭ❍ᗵ3ⲅ 1Ⲡ ❍ⵡⲅ #34ⲅ7.

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—maybe someone like me—back 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—on 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—thicker, 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—blue-grey and fathomless—seemed 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—thick 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—under 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—the one who could either complete my puzzle or tear everything apart.