An old man sat on an ornately decorated golden throne.

 

His back was hunched, his complexion pale, his body emaciated, and his eyelids sunken, lacking any vitality. The old man seemed tormented by extreme anxiety, trembling constantly, startling and flinching even at the slightest breeze.

 

This frail figure, reminiscent of a scarecrow that might be blown away at any moment, was the pinnacle of the empire.

 

A mere gesture of his hand could command countless people, a single cough could sever the neck of a high-ranking noble. His was the supreme seat above all others, with no limits to the wealth and power that could be enjoyed. Yet, why did he appear so pitiful?

 

What was he anxious about, what caused him such distress?

 

The First Princess Elaine, who turned ten that year, harbored such questions when she first met her father. The old man on the throne seemed more a slave than an emperor.

 

————-

 

The emperor never showed his face even at the birth of his children. Princes and princesses were raised away from their mothers, in the arms of nurses and servants. The concept of parents was learned only as a word. The term ‘father’ felt very distant.

 

Once you grew attached to a nurse, she was replaced. The same went for the servants. The royal offspring were strictly forbidden from forming close bonds with anyone.

 

Pleas not to leave were disregarded; the rules were followed. Affection led to parting. Eventually, they learned not to give their affection to the servants.

 

The only exception were fellow royal siblings.

 

That’s why the First Princess Elaine cherished her two half-siblings dearly. Among the ever-changing faces around her, the one constant was ‘family’.

 

Then one day, the emperor summoned his four children to the throne room.

 

A vast hall, a red silk path led to the golden throne, decorated grandly. Innumerable knights stood to the sides, swords at their sides, and beside the emperor stood a young knight, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

 

The scene resembled an inquisition of criminals. The First Princess Elaine was merely ten, and the Second Prince and Third Prince were seven and six, respectively. It was an excessive display of vigilance for such young children, barely able to wield a stick properly.

 

The old emperor gazed silently at his own blood, kneeling before him.

 

Prince Irid read fear in the emperor’s eyes. The emperor was afraid of them.

 

Irid pondered. What does it mean to be afraid to step down from that golden throne? Does it mean that even one’s own flesh and blood can instill terror? Is power so captivating?

 

Irid was sick with fear. Even the emperor, having so much in his grasp, feared and was wary of others. Then, it would be all the easier with other people. Even the nanny, the servants, possibly even siblings, may at some point become cautious of him…

 

So, the seed of doubt was sown.

 

Prince Sured saw affectionate worry in the emperor’s eyes. The emperor was worried about them.

 

Sured thought. There must have been a reason why they took so much from us, replaced the servants who loved us, and never once showed their face. Perhaps there was an enemy who coveted the imperial palace.

 

Sured decided. If the emperor, who held so much, was cautious of something, then he would have to become stronger. If he became a superhuman who could overcome any obstacle, they would not have to lose the ones they loved.

 

Thus, the seed of extreme training was sown.

 

And Princess Elain felt… many things from the emperor’s eyes. It was a whirlwind of complex emotions, too complex to be defined by a single word. Sometimes it was caution, sometimes sorrow, sometimes concern, sometimes love, or emptiness.

 

She didn’t understand. Even the brilliant Princess Elain could not fathom why the emperor of the empire would become a madman. She could not discern which emotion in those eyes was sincere.

 

However, Elain deeply remembered that look.

 

Retiring, the elderly emperor left these words of advice to his children.

 

“Survive… our bloodline must continue.”

 

It was an ambiguous statement.

 

Princess Elain grew up splendidly. She shared affection with her siblings, she was never lazy in her training. She dispelled ignorance, and eased tension. And now… she was considered a leading contender in the succession competition. The golden throne was near.

 

She still couldn’t quite understand the emperor’s words and deeds…

 

“Irid, my brother.”

 

“…Sister.”

 

“That wizard, he talked about illusion magic, not dimensional teleportation. Do you think what you experienced was real?”

 

“……”

 

Irid’s silence dragged on. Eventually, after much thought, he responded.

 

“I chose to believe. Even if everything was a trick of that wizard – that won’t change the fact that I love her.”

 

“Well then… I hope it was real. I don’t want to see my brother cry.”

 

“The same goes for you. You’re going to experience dimensional teleportation, right? Make sure you don’t break down crying when it’s all over.”

 

Irid shot back and walked away. Watching his retreating figure, Princess Elain recalled a long-ago revelation, one that was uniquely hers to understand.

 

The moment she asked Irid if everything could have been a fake. Immediately after.

 

The anguish that brushed across her brother’s eyes… shone in the same hue as the old emperor’s gaze. The hue of a shackled slave.

 

————-

 

“I will demonstrate the illusion magic, Princess Elain.”

 

“Alright, begin.”

 

“Everything is fiction. It’s a product of the imagination with no relation to any real events.”

 

“I understand.”

 

“In four hours by real-world time, I will summon you again, Your Highness. A mark will be left on your wrist, so you’ll be able to recognize the time to return.”

 

The princess nodded quietly and lay down on the magical circle. She harbored some doubts—was this not just a convincing illusion crafted by the wizard as he claimed?

 

This, therefore, was a test.

 

In the letter she had previously sent, she had written, ‘I enjoy battle.’ The image of her smashing monsters’ heads on the eastern front and building a reputation as a battle-fiend must have been convincing. They probably believed it.

 

If this was all—merely an illusion conjured by the wizard—the contents of her letter would lead him to project a blood-soaked fantasy. If so, she would just need to break free from the illusion.

 

This didn’t mean shattering it in a physical sense; to fight the purple tower’s master would be a suicidal act. Although the princess had achieved transformation, she had not yet stepped into the realm of sublimation. To engage in battle, piercing through the difference in their realms, she would have needed to bring along the sacred sword from the imperial treasury.

 

Instead, she intended to break it politically. By leveraging charges of royal defamation, she planned to strengthen her position on the throne with the backing of the purple tower.

 

Even if it indeed turned out to be dimensional magic, she had nothing to lose.

 

Having experienced the event, Irid changed, unlike others. It seemed he had overcome the trauma that had arisen during his audience with the emperor. He began to trust others more and started to act with greater passion. It was a welcome change.

 

If, as Irid insisted, this was dimensional magic that bestowed ‘trials of fate’… then, she could grow. If she could overcome the trials and find a clue to sublimation, all the better. She did not consider the possibility of failure.

 

The magic activated. The TRPG began.

 

————-

 

Wasteland.

 

The ashen earth stretched to the horizon. Dust-laden winds scraped across the skin. The sky above seemed draped in a gloomy filter. Occasionally, colossal monsters soared by.

 

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Princess Elaine climbed atop a tall rock to survey her surroundings.

 

Monsters roamed the wasteland, their appearances a bizarre mixture of various animals or contorted into odd shapes. At face value, one might think of the infernal realms, but none were strong enough to warrant that—most were merely ogre-level at best.

 

Elaine had once allowed an ogre to hit her with a club and responded by delivering a punch to the belly, killing it. The monsters she had encountered thus far had met similar fates.

 

The howling winds, the damp odor, the strange, sticky mucus from slain monsters, even the rough sensation of earth under her bare feet—everything felt too real to believe it was just an illusion, as they claimed.

 

So far, her experiences matched the requests written in her letter: it had been a succession of battles. Doubt was inevitable. Elaine lent a bit more weight to the belief that this world was an illusion.

 

Would she spend the remaining time hunting monsters until called back?

 

At least, she wished for a fight with a real sense of tension──

 

Around that time, she spotted a human figure in the distance. Princess Elaine imbued her eyes with magical power. It was a boy, around 160cm tall, wearing goggles perhaps to protect his eyes from the dust-filled wind.

 

Blonde hair, green eyes, a cute face, but his expression and gaze conveyed a firm resolve, highlighted by a perfectly placed tear mole.

 

“Oh my?”

 

He was exactly her type.

 

For a moment, Princess Elaine wished that this world could be real.