World-building games are enjoyable precisely because you can pick and play with the most fun parts of their lore.

I’ve always loved Azerna Chronicles from the start, so I wanted to memorize as much of the game series’ universe as possible. The myths, the continents, the countries, the magic, the cultures… If there was anything that detailed the lore, I devoured it.

I bought thick lore books, read all the in-game “books,” learned every description of monsters, beasts, and enemies, and completed character notes that filled in as I finished events with them.

Since a new installment came out only once a year, I had nothing better to do while waiting for the next one. Sure, I played other games in the meantime, and I also played previous installments I hadn’t cleared before, but no matter how devoted you are to a single series for seven years, eventually, you’ll run out of things to consume.

And even though the series continued, the world would reset periodically.

No matter how many texts I gathered from the game or how many lore books I added, summarizing the entire world would probably take just about three books—assuming they were as thick as the lore volumes themselves.

So, it was fun to read.

...The problem was, that only applied when it was a game.

A game doesn’t always show the bright side of the world, but it doesn’t dive too deeply into the darker aspects, either. Any setting too grim, the kind that would make you feel depressed just by witnessing it, was often glossed over with a brief line of dialogue or shown in passing glimpses.

It’s fun to skip over the sad parts and only dig into the interesting ones when you're researching lore...

But if this were the real world, it would be a different story.

In the game, a quick glimpse of a shady back alley becomes hundreds of pages of actual documentation in the real world. Discussions over how to solve poverty issues would show countless examples and arguments, all defending or disputing one another.

History was the same. The game’s story cleanly summarized the most important parts at the time of the main events, but the history books in this world were as thick, boring, and numerous as those in the world I came from. And just like in my world, interpretations of events varied depending on the key figures being discussed, and ambiguous topics led to endless debates.

Steam engines, firearms, magic. These three core elements of the world’s lore splintered into materials science, mechanical engineering, chemistry, physics, magical studies, magical engineering... There were so many fields that it made my head spin.

And at the heart of all these theories lay the same daunting subject: mathematics.

And I had happily abandoned math when I was in high school.

...Did I really have to tackle math just to dig into lore?

•  

But it wasn’t entirely impossible for me to understand all of this.

After all, wasn’t time on my side?

If I didn’t understand something after reading it, I could always turn back time and go over it again until it made sense. I could ask the same tutor a hundred or even a thousand times, and to them, it would feel like I only asked once.

Besides, there were incredible benefits to learning things this way.

"Truly impressive, Your Highness!"

My tutor exclaimed, clapping their hands with a beaming smile.

The title of “princess” still felt strange, but it wasn’t as though I could ask them to call me anything else. After all, I really was a princess.

Of course, that status was quite different from the true princess, Alice, but to this tutor, that didn’t matter. They were only interested in being able to say later, “I was the tutor of such a talented princess.”

"I can’t believe you understand everything I explain right away. Your natural talent is remarkable! I’m sure you’ll blossom even further at the Royal Academy!"

...They were probably over-enthusiastic, but I kept my expression neutral.

I had no intention of becoming an expert in any particular field. My only goal was to get into the Royal Academy.

In games, exams only ask one or two questions and move on, but in reality, I knew it wouldn’t be like that. The actual entrance exam would likely be strict, with dozens of questions to answer in a limited time.

Well... I could always turn back time and look at the questions, but relying on that all the time would eventually expose my lack of preparation.

So, it was better to maintain this image of being “smart and capable” from the start.

Why was I so determined to enter the Royal Academy, though? In the original story, Claire didn’t enter from the beginning; the Emperor arranged for her to be admitted later in the story.

The reason I wanted to enter the Academy myself was...

Isn’t it obvious? I loved Azerna Chronicles. I had a deep affection for the characters in that world.

The thought of spending my school days with those characters...

How could I pass that up?

Sure, in this world, I was under the Emperor, effectively the head of the villainous faction, so I might end up opposing the protagonist’s party in various ways...

But even that was a major appeal to me.

There were a few characters who died in the original game. Depending on the protagonist’s choices, certain characters were fated to die. Which characters would die varied depending on the route, but no matter which route you chose, two or three characters, including Claire, would permanently die.

That’s how it was in the latest installment I played. The sequel was supposed to carry over the save data, continuing the consequences of those choices.

Of course, players didn’t believe that a small company would maintain that continuity throughout the series. Most believed they’d eventually find a way to bring those characters back to life after the grim opening, and I agreed with that opinion.

Still...

I hated the idea of characters I cared about dying.

So, I would stop that from happening. As long as I was trusted by the Emperor, it wasn’t an impossible task.

•  

"..."

But all that extra effort I was putting into my studies had its downsides.

Like right now, with Alice glaring at me.

Both of us would be turning 14 this year.

In this world, you enter the Academy at 15. The entrance exam would be at the end of the year, and those who ranked highest in the exams would receive privileges upon admission. Then, we’d study at the Academy for four years, constantly taking tests to rank ourselves.

If I were to compare it to the system I knew, it would be like starting high school in the third year of middle school and staying until graduation.

In the original story, Alice had been the top student upon entrance.

"How did you do it?"

Alice’s voice was harsh and dripping with jealousy.

She had only gotten five questions wrong across all subjects on the entrance exam. The Royal Londarium Academy’s exam was famously difficult, and scoring over 450 out of 500 points was enough to be considered a genius.

With a score of 487, Alice had been hailed as a prodigy. She had worked hard to surpass her "siblings" and take pride in her accomplishment.

"..."

I looked down at the mock exam I was holding.

On it, my score read 495.

For reference, mock exams are usually considered harder than the actual ones.

...Did I overdo it?

"..."

Alice’s face flushed red when I didn’t respond.

"...Answer me. Did you really solve it all on your own?"

Well...

Technically, yes?

If using my time-rewinding ability was considered part of my “skill,” then yes, I had studied and memorized everything. And while Alice was cramming four hours of sleep a night, I was getting a solid eight hours of rest. To everyone else—including Alice right in front of me—I probably looked like a genius, not just a prodigy.

...Maybe I did go too far.

"I was lucky."

"Lucky?"

The excuse I had hastily come up with sounded something like that.

"Yes. There were a few questions I wasn’t sure about, so I guessed. It seems I happened to choose the right answers. I remember there being five of those, so if I’d left them blank, you would’ve had a higher score than me, Your Highness."

I spoke calmly, maintaining my usual tone to avoid sounding like I was making it up on the spot.

"As you know, Your Highness, I’ve always been fortunate."

In reality, there had been many instances where I foresaw the future, rewound time, and solved problems that way. Some of it might have looked like sheer luck.

And naturally, some people who saw me thought I was incredibly lucky.

Well, I agreed. After all, one of my favorite protagonists was standing right in front of me.

"...Hmm."

Alice squinted, as if trying to gauge whether I was telling the truth.

But her expression soon softened.

"Really? You mean that?"

She said, trying hard to compose herself, though her expression had already relaxed.

"Truly. Have I ever lied to you, Your Highness?"

"...No."

For the past nine years, I had never betrayed anyone in the palace. If I was asked to do something, I did it without complaint, and when questioned, I answered honestly. I hadn’t lied, either.

Of course, sometimes I said things and then made it so that they weren’t lies, but the result was the same as what people expected.

Incidentally, the Emperor hadn’t assigned me any more assassination tasks since the last one. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I suspected he had some hidden motives. It made my act easier, though.

"Heh, I see. So, it was just luck, huh?"

Alice couldn’t suppress a smile as she spoke, her mood instantly lifting.

...I did feel a little guilty lying to someone like her, but this should be enough.

"That’s right. Congratulations, Your Highness."

"Hmph."

Alice let out a haughty snort in response.

"Well, there’s a saying that luck is a skill in itself. If this had been the real exam, you’d have taken the top spot."

Her eyes gleamed with determination as she looked at me.

"Just watch. Next time, I’ll make sure even luck won’t help you beat me."

"I’m looking forward to it."

How cute.

...I’ll make sure to miss five more questions on the entrance exam.

•  

And aside from riling Alice up, there was another side effect to all my effort.

"Sylvia."

"Yes?"

"Are you interested in world affairs?"

"..."

During a private audience with the Emperor, he suddenly hit me with this completely out-of-the-blue question.

For a moment, I almost responded with, "Excuse me?" but I held my tongue.

"Hmm."

The Emperor hummed thoughtfully, as if considering my silence, before continuing.

"There will be a three-party conference next month between the Papal State, the Kingdom, and our Empire."

"..."

I remained silent. The Emperor had a habit of saying unexpected things when we met, so I had assumed this was just more of that.

"But I won’t be able to attend because of prior engagements."

So?

I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, suppressing the question that wanted to rise to the surface.

"That’s why I’m asking you to go in my place."

"Excuse me? Me?"

"Hmm?"

Ah.

I couldn’t hold it in.

...Let’s try that again.

•  

"...May I ask why you want me to go instead of someone else?"

Since the Emperor had said it, I figured he had already made up his mind. If he hadn’t planned on sending me, he wouldn’t have called me here in the first place.

...Still, the more I thought about it, the more insane it seemed.

Regardless of my real age, I was officially only 14 years old. In Korean terms, I was 16, about to enter the Academy—essentially high school—next year.

Sure, anime and other subcultures often show teenagers running the world, but wasn’t this a bit too much?

"Because I trust you. What other reason would there be?"

"..."

Hmm.

It seemed I had worked too hard.

The people around me—the other children of the Emperor, the true princess Alice, and even the Emperor himself...

It wasn’t just trust in me that had become too solid—it was the trust in my abilities.

...That unshakable belief in my powers was one of the downsides of my time manipulation ability that I had been starting to worry about lately.