Emilia folded the last of her modest clothes into her worn leather satchel, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound breaking the early morning stillness. Her movements were careful, calculated—after all, she had very little time.
The threads of fate had already been woven, and she knew what awaited her in the coming days. Death. Three days before the Academy enrollment, in every timeline she had experienced, Emilia Ein Vilheim would die. But not this time.
She tied the satchel's leather straps securely, taking a moment to breathe deeply. She had been reincarnated into this world not by choice, and though she remembered every step of the game's plot, it hadn't prepared her for the weight of her situation. There was no convenient way out. The game's story had predetermined her fate, but Emilia refused to let it control her.
The sound of the door creaking open behind her broke her focus. Father Bernard, the elderly priest who had raised her since childhood, entered with his usual slow, careful steps. His eyes, though weary with age, sparkled with warmth.
"Emilia, my child," he said softly, "are you truly leaving so soon? You have many days before the Academy requires you to appear."
Emilia forced herself to smile—a gentle, serene expression, just as the system compelled her to do. She bowed her head slightly, her dark hair falling gracefully over her shoulders, and responded in the same kind, holy tone the system dictated.
"Yes, Father," she replied, her voice soothing and measured. "I believe it is best to leave early. There are many people on the road who may need assistance, and it would be selfish of me to wait until the last minute. I have been blessed with these powers to help others, and I should use them as much as I can before arriving at the Academy."
The system's doing, Emilia thought bitterly, even as she delivered the words with a perfect smile. It had crafted the perfect excuse for her, allowing her to leave without suspicion. In reality, Emilia was just trying to buy herself some time—time to figure out how to avoid her predestined death.
Father Bernard's expression softened further, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch light but reassuring.
"You have always had such a generous heart, my dear," he said with a proud smile. "From the moment you were brought to this orphanage, we knew you were different. Perhaps that's why you were given the Holy power, despite your commoner blood."
Oh, the irony, Emilia mused, a wry smile tugging at her lips, though the system's influence forced it to appear as a gentle, demure grin. She wasn't a commoner at all—she was Emilia Ein Vilheim, daughter of a duke, and no one in this small village, not even the priest who had raised her, knew the truth.
The nun, Sister Agatha, joined them, beaming with pride. "We will miss you dearly, Emilia. But we know you will bring honor to the Cathedral and to our village. The Academy is lucky to have you among the Saintess candidates."
Emilia nodded gracefully, her thoughts racing beneath her composed facade.
She stepped away from the pair, giving one final farewell. "Thank you, Father. Sister Agatha. I will carry your teachings with me, always."
Father Bernard's eyes misted with emotion as he offered a final blessing over her. "Go with the grace of the Light, child. May you find your true purpose."
Emilia only nodded, avoiding any deeper engagement as she quickly made her way to the carriage waiting outside. As soon as she stepped out into the cool morning air, the weight of the situation fell back onto her shoulders.
The village streets were still, the world around her quiet and peaceful. It would have been easy to feel sentimental about leaving, but Emilia had long accepted the reality of her situation. Sentimentality had no place in survival.
She approached the carriage, her steps measured and graceful, once again dictated by the system's constraints. The driver bowed respectfully as she climbed inside, offering a polite greeting she barely registered.
The moment she settled into the seat, the familiar translucent window appeared before her.
[System Notification]
[Tutorial 2]
Welcome to Heroes of Cartea, Player from another world.
The journey begins now. Synchronization complete.
Quest: Survive.
Emilia couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. Journey to the capital, huh? She already knew what awaited her there—danger, betrayal, and ultimately, death. But she wasn't planning to play by the game's rules. She had already started making her own.
As the carriage began its slow, steady journey toward the capital, Emilia leaned her head against the side of the window, watching the trees and fields pass by. She allowed her thoughts to drift, plotting her next move.
This world had its rules, but the system had promised her one thing: if she could prevent the destruction of Tersia, she would be granted a life of her own design. That promise was her lifeline. It was the only thing keeping her from spiraling into despair.
I just have to survive, Emilia thought to herself, her gaze steady as the sun slowly rose higher in the sky. If I can stop the world's destruction, I'll be free.
The system's influence forced her body to adopt a posture of solemn prayer, her hands clasped together as if offering blessings for the world's happiness. It was laughable, really.
She was alone in this dilapidated carriage, far from the prying eyes of others, yet the system still demanded she act the part of a saint.
The soft, reverent whispers of the prayers came unbidden from her lips, each word filled with grace and sincerity that she didn't feel in the slightest.
She would get through this. Emilia had seen enough in her previous life to know that the world was rarely kind to those who were meant to die. But she wasn't going to lie down and accept it. Not this time.
As the countryside rolled by, Emilia's mind sharpened with resolve. She had the knowledge of the game's mechanics, the timeline of events, and most importantly, she had the will to change her fate.
No matter what the system, the world, or even the gods threw at her, she was going to survive.
*****
The first thing Emilia noticed was the jarring sound of metal scraping, followed by frantic shouts and the unmistakable scream of horses. The carriage lurched violently, throwing her sideways, and before she could process what was happening, the entire vehicle tipped over, crashing onto the dirt road with a deafening thud. The world spun as Emilia tumbled across the floor, her body slamming into the walls of the carriage.
Pain shot through her limbs as she tried to brace herself, but the disorientation made it hard to react quickly. The sound of splintering wood filled the air, followed by the unmistakable shuffle of feet outside. Assassins.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to gather her bearings. When the carriage finally stilled, Emilia blinked against the dust and debris, pulling herself up with trembling hands. She could hear movement outside—quick, precise footsteps approaching from all sides.
Assassins? But why? Emilia thought, panic swelling in her chest. I've already left the village. This shouldn't be happening yet.
Her mind raced, and then, the realization hit her like a wave. The emblem of the blue moon. These were the same assassins that had killed Emilia in every timeline of the game. Every route she had tried, no matter the choices, led to the same brutal end—death at the hands of these merciless killers.
Why now? Why here?
Ignoring the questions racing through her mind, Emilia quickly climbed out of the wreckage of the carriage, her movements swift but graceful as the system forced her body to maintain an aura of saintly composure.
The assassins moved like shadows, their dark cloaks blending into the early morning mist as they encircled her. Emilia took a breath, steadying herself despite the rising panic. No matter what happens, I won't die here. Not this time.
Her hands glowed with a soft, holy light as she summoned her power. The system, ever vigilant, forced her lips to move in a gentle, sorrowful prayer.
"Oh, misguided souls," she began, her voice calm and filled with sorrow, though internally she was cursing every one of them. "I pity the paths you've chosen, but if you continue down this road, I have no choice but to stop you."
She wanted to scream, to curse them openly, but the system twisted her words into this maddeningly gentle rebuke. Her body moved gracefully as she raised her hands, her holy power flowing through her as if she were offering a blessing instead of preparing for battle.
The assassins hesitated for only a moment before they surged forward. They came at her like a tidal wave, their blades gleaming in the morning light, but Emilia was ready. She moved swiftly, using the holy power within her to block their attacks and retaliate with bursts of radiant energy.
The light from her hands sliced through the air, striking the nearest assassin in the chest. He fell with a muffled cry, his body crumpling to the ground. But instead of allowing herself to feel relief, Emilia's lips—under the system's control—whispered a prayer for his soul.
"I hope you find peace in the next life."
Oh, for the love of—! Emilia mentally groaned, furious at the system's constant interference. She wasn't trying to give these assassins comfort! She wanted them to know how much she hated this, how unfair it all was. But no, she couldn't curse them or even express her true thoughts. The system filtered everything, twisting her anger into pity and sorrow.
Another assassin lunged at her from the side, but Emilia reacted quickly, sending a beam of holy light crashing into him. His body convulsed before collapsing in a heap at her feet. More of them kept coming, surrounding her, but Emilia stood her ground, her every movement fluid and graceful, as though she were performing some divine dance.
With every attack, the system forced her to maintain a look of sorrowful regret on her face, as though she lamented their deaths. In truth, Emilia was just trying to survive.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she fought, the strain of using her powers beginning to take its toll. Even so, she couldn't stop—she wouldn't stop. Not now.
But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw movement—one assassin had slipped behind her while she was distracted, his blade poised to strike at her exposed back. Time seemed to slow as Emilia's heart leapt into her throat. She couldn't turn fast enough. She was too late.
I'm going to die... The thought flashed through her mind like a bolt of lightning.
And then, in an instant, the assassin's head was severed from his body, his sword clattering uselessly to the ground as his lifeless form collapsed. Blood sprayed across the dirt, staining the earth beneath him.
Emilia's eyes widened in shock, her body instinctively reacting to the gruesome sight. But once again, the system twisted her expression into one of sorrow and regret, as though she mourned the assassin's death. Of course, she thought bitterly. Even now, I can't look horrified.
She turned her gaze upward, her heart still pounding, and that's when she saw him.
Standing before her, his sword gleaming with the blood of the fallen assassin, was Raphael Kane Vilheim.
Her half-brother.
The world seemed to freeze around her as their eyes met. Emilia felt a wave of shock wash over her. Why was he here? How had he found her?
Raphael's expression was grim, his eyes dark and intense as he lowered his sword. The air around him crackled with tension, and for a moment, Emilia didn't know how to react. She couldn't even scream or ask him what he was doing—she could only stand there, her face calm and composed, as the system dictated.
Raphael took a step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers.
"You," he said, his voice low and steady, "you're Emilia Ein Vilheim."
It wasn't a question. He knew. Somehow, he knew.