A piece of news, enough to ignite the entire Royal Magic Academy, exploded like a spark falling into boiling oil, unleashing a massive wave of change within a single morning.
Princess Shireen, the most beloved youngest daughter of the Emperor and the jewel of the Empire, had, in the academy's courtyard, before everyone's eyes, challenged her fiancé—Chloe Orost Dodor, son of the Grand Duke of the North—to a sacred "voted duel"! The stakes were the marriage contract that maintained peace between the Empire and the North!
The news spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the academy, including the school's infirmary.
Sunlight streamed through the clean glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the gleaming floor.
Soros, the boy who had recently broken both legs in an "accident" during a practical lesson, lay quietly in his hospital bed. He had slightly disheveled brown hair, and although his face was pale from blood loss, his eyes remained bright.
Princess Shireen sat on a chair by the bedside, her usual pride and fierceness gone, replaced by an unusual calm and gentleness.
She was carefully peeling an apple for the boy on the sickbed with her slender, white hands.
Her attitude towards Soros was completely different from how she treated Chloe.
In her heart, Soros was special.
He was one of the few in the academy who didn't fawn over her because of her noble princess status, nor did he distance himself from her out of fear because of royal authority.
He only saw "Shireen" for who she was.
It was this rare purity that made her cherish this friendship so much, and it was precisely because of this that when she learned that Chloe had taken advantage of the situation to break Soros's leg brutally during a combat class, her long-suppressed anger finally broke through her breaking point.
Chloe's violence not only hurt a friend she valued but also trampled on her dignity and bottom line.
"Shireen…" Soros couldn't help but break the silence in the infirmary first: "Everyone's saying you challenged Chloe to a duel to break off your engagement?"
The princess paused almost imperceptibly in her apple-peeling motion, her long eyelashes drooping, concealing the complex emotions that flashed across her eyes.
She gave a soft "Mmm," acknowledging it.
Soros's face immediately showed deep worry: "But...is this really alright? I heard that your engagement to Chloe concerns the stability of the North. Will His Majesty the Emperor...allow it?"
Shirin pursed her delicate pink lips, handed him the peeled apple, and then said calmly, "The rules of the Academy's dueling arena are ironclad laws established by our ancestors and the Senate when the nation was founded, symbolizing fairness and that oaths cannot be trifled with."
"Since Chloe has personally agreed to the duel, even Father cannot disobey."
Soros paused, lowered his eyes, took the apple, but didn't eat it, his face filled with guilt. "If I weren't so useless, you wouldn't have risked offending His Majesty for my sake..." "..."
"No, Soros, don't say that." Shirin shook her head, looking at him with unwavering determination. "Even without this, given the chance, I would have found a way to dissolve this engagement."
"I can't imagine spending my future with a coward who only knows how to bully the weak and fear the strong because of his family background. It disgusts me. In this matter, I should thank you. It was your injury that made me make my final decision."
She paused, her voice softening. "Besides, you are a friend I acknowledge. You suffered unfair humiliation. If I don't stand up for you, who will?"
Soros stared blankly at the determined girl before him, his chest filled with an indescribable emotion.
...
Unlike the surging public opinion outside, Chloe herself, as the other center of this storm, appeared unusually calm, even... detached.
He was currently nestled deep within the magnificent, palace-like library of the Royal Magic Academy, in a quiet corner by the window.
The clamor outside the window seemed like a world away from him.
The duel in three days? He didn't care at all.
Losing the match, breaking off the engagement, saying goodbye to the main characters—this process was already set the moment he transmigrated and sorted out his situation.
The princess belonged to the protagonist; the engagement, for him, a minor villain, was not a blessing, but rather a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment, threatening his life.
What he was more concerned about now was whether this world was reliable at all. Was it some kind of drastically altered version? If so, his "prophet" advantage would be greatly diminished.
He opened a thick, heavy book, his fingertips tracing the ink-scented pages.
A strange feeling washed over him. The characters used in the book, like the local language, were both strange and familiar. He had never seen them before, but now he could recognize them fluently.
He turned the pages one by one, and information about this world was rapidly etched into his mind, corresponding perfectly with his existing knowledge.
There are only two extraordinary systems: Warriors and Mages.
The levels are universal, from lowest to highest: Low-level, Mid-level, High-level, King-level, Saint-level, Emperor-level, and God-level.
The world map is also accurate, with five major continents divided by the Endless Sea. Humanity's main settlements are in the five allied nations of the Southern Continent.
The Saint Romania Empire, where he currently resides, is one of them.
As for the others, the distribution of dragons, elves, dwarves, orcs… is quite familiar.
"Looks like the basic settings aren't off track," Chloe nodded to himself, feeling slightly relieved.
This start, aside from the somewhat troublesome identity, is relatively friendly in terms of environment. His gaze continued sweeping across the pages until the "Religion" chapter, where the names of the "Central Papacy" and the current Saintess "Fergari" caught his eye.
"Saintess? Fergari?" Chloe paused, raising an eyebrow: "That name…"
He quickly flipped to the section detailing the history of the Papacy.
The book describes how, about three hundred years ago, the Papacy suffered an unknown "disaster," nearly wiping out its high-ranking officials.
The then-Saintess, Ferghana, was appointed to a critical position, transforming the previously symbolic but powerless role of Saintess into the de facto ruler of the Papacy.
This description seemed unremarkable at first glance.
However, Chloe's eyes widened as she read on.
This couldn't be right! Wasn't this something that happened in another text-based simulation game she had played?
And if her memory wasn't faulty, then the disaster not mentioned in the book must have been caused by him… Back then, he had truly risked his life to send those old fogies of the Papacy to their deaths, paving the way for Ferghana.
—Wait, that text-based simulation game seemed to have three chapters, with Ferghana's chapter being the last. And if Ferghana became real, then the other two chapters…
Chloe immediately stood up and strode to the bookshelf, her eyes rapidly scanning the thick volumes.
Then he pulled out a thick, black-covered tome titled *Dark Age: The Chronicles of the Demon Emperor*.
Sure enough, after only a few pages, he saw the ominous name—Demon Emperor Rubysis.
He quickly put the book down and pulled out another, *The Chronicles of the Dragon Clan*.
Opening the title page, the table of contents prominently listed the names of the four Dragon Kings.
Besides the Day Dragon King Clayton and the Night Dragon King Oberton, he also saw those two familiar names.
The Blazing Dragon King, Ophelia.
The Frost Dragon King, Elena.
Click—closing the heavy book, Chloe stood there, stunned.
No, this isn't right!
He felt a bit absurd. Had he transmigrated not into a single game world, but into a hodgepodge of two games?
One had become history that had already happened, and the other the future that was about to unfold?
"…"