On the Plantera continent, within the boundaries of the Celestial Empire, a dynasty has stood strong for over a thousand years.

This enduring reign has been maintained by the royal family of Klihut, which has kept the empire in check throughout the centuries.

Just three days ago, a grand coronation ceremony was held to celebrate the ascension of the legitimate son to the throne, now identified as the new Emperor.

However, this coronation marked not just the beginning of a new reign, but also the commencement of a mass execution orchestrated by the freshly crowned tyrant.

In a chilling display of power, the new Emperor, fueled by a decade of bloodshed, executed all concubines, princesses, and even his trusted advisors.

Having seized the throne through ruthless means, the Emperor harnessed the might of countless mercenary soldiers he had gathered over years of relentless warfare.

His ascent was bolstered by the discreet support of several noble families, particularly those with loyalties towards the previous Emperor.

By leveraging his battlefield accomplishments and prowess, the ambitious new ruler earned their trust, ultimately orchestrating a coup that would see him usurp the imperial crown.

Today, inside the grand stadium at the heart of the capital city, a throng of citizens—including commoners and nobles alike—gathered to witness the horrific spectacle of the third day of executions.

The tension in the air was palpable as memories of the past days lingered in the minds of those present.

On the first day, the Emperor had mercilessly eliminated an entire branch of the royal family.

The second day saw the systematic execution of all the loyal aides and noble supporters of the fallen dynasty.

And now, on the third day of this gruesome event, the Emperor had determined to eradicate those individuals perceived as threats to his rule—specifically, those who had held an unfavorable opinion of him during his years on the battlefield.

The sun blazed high in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the vast stadium that dominated the heart of the capital.

Thousands of citizens crammed into the stands, a sea of faces whispering, cheering, and eagerly anticipating the next act of barbaric justice.

After all, today was the third day of public executions, and nothing excited these bloodthirsty spectators more than seeing heads roll under the iron-fisted rule of the new emperor.

In the center of it all, a platform loomed ominously, standing tall like a cruel monument to the reign of terror. Resting upon it was the executioner's guillotine, its blade gleaming in the sunlight.

Streaks of blood, long dried and darkened, marred the wooden floor—a chilling reminder of the many lives it had claimed.

Enter the villainess.

Or rather, me—except, I didn't quite know that part yet.

I—she—was being dragged, not too gracefully, by two burly guards toward the platform.

And by "dragged," I mean they had me by both arms as if I were some kind of ragdoll, my feet barely skimming the ground.

Really?

At least let a girl walk with some shred of dignity!

"Curse you, Emperor!" I—or technically, she—screamed, my voice hoarse but defiant. "May you rot in the deepest pit of hell for eternity!"

Oh boy, I had really gone for it, hadn't I?

Not that I had any particular plans to die today, but the body I now found myself in seemed more than happy to throw shade at the ruler of the land.

It didn't stop the guards from shoving me—hard—onto the wooden planks of the execution block.

I winced as my knees hit the hard floor.

Ouch, seriously?

My thoughts were in chaos, a whirlwind of confusion as I tried to process everything.

This wasn't my body, my life, or even my world.

And yet, it all felt so disturbingly real.

The warm sun on my skin, the coarse wood beneath me... and the cold gaze of the emperor, watching from his elevated throne.

The emperor.

Oh, he was scary. Cold. Ruthless. Deadly.

His regal presence alone was enough to send shivers down my spine.

But why, oh why, did I also notice he was handsome?

A brooding, dark figure with sharp features that could carve stone, his black armor gleaming menacingly in the sunlight.

It clung to his powerful frame like it was molded to his very skin, each piece intricately detailed with a design that spoke of war and death.

Focus!

"Kill her!" His voice echoed through the stadium, each word as cold and unfeeling as the man himself.

The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting for blood as the blade slowly began to rise above me, catching the sunlight with a deadly glint.

And then, out of nowhere—it happened.

One blink, and suddenly I—the real me—was inhabiting this body.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

What. Just. Happened?

I blinked again, my head spinning as my surroundings snapped into stark focus.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I tilted my gaze upward.

There it was—the guillotine's blade, shining brightly in the sun.

Shiny... so shiny...

And then the gravity of the situation hit me.

Oh no, shiny bad! Shiny very bad!

"What is this?" I stammered, panic bubbling up like a geyser.

The emperor's eyes—sharp and unrelenting—narrowed as he studied me, but his expression didn't change. He didn't care what my sudden outburst was about.

"Kill her," he repeated, his voice a final sentence of doom.

"Wait, what? No! No, no, no, no, no!" I cried out, my voice cracking in desperation. "Don't kill me! At least hear me out!"

The emperor's brow arched slightly, a hint of intrigue flickering in his gaze.

"What is your last wish?" His tone was icy, detached, but... something was there. The faintest glimmer of curiosity.

My heart pounded in my chest, loud enough to drown out the roars of the bloodthirsty crowd.

My mind raced, scrambling for anything, anything, to stall for time.

Okay, think! I was a villainess, in a fantasy novel, moments from death.

This was that book—the one where the villainess was supposed to die today and turned into the undead.

But I wasn't about to let that happen.

Not without a fight.