"So, here I am, Moris Secht—noble child extraordinaire in a magical matriarchal world. You'd think I'd be thriving with my knowledge of Earth and my uncanny ability to Google anything in my past life, but no. Instead, I'm doing the one thing I excel at: barely surviving."
Adam—or Moris, as this world insisted—sat slumped over his desk in the classroom, glaring at the neat rows of handwriting in his history notebook. History class wasn't just boring; it was actively infuriating.
"Today, we'll delve into the Golden Age of the Matriarchal Kingdoms," his teacher announced, her tone reverent as always.
Adam muttered under his breath, "Oh joy, another chapter of 'Men Suck, Women Rock.' My favorite bedtime story."
The textbooks were filled with stories of brave queens and genius female strategists who led their kingdoms to victory against all odds. Men, meanwhile, were lucky to get a footnote, usually something along the lines of: 'And the men supported them by doing whatever they were told.'
Adam flipped a page, his irritation growing. "You'd think at least one guy would've gotten credit for something. But no. This is just propaganda with extra glitter."
What grated on him more was the glaring absence of normal humans—people like him from Earth. It was as if the very idea of a world without magic or sword fighting was inconceivable here.
"Funny thing," Adam whispered to himself, "the game this world is based on eventually revealed that people like me used to exist here. Y'know, non-magical, tech-reliant humans. But apparently, we got written out of history. Why? Well it's a spoiler which I am not in the mood of spoiling yet but stay tuned to find out."
He smirked, earning a sharp glare from his teacher. "Moris Secht," she barked, "do you have something to share with the class?"
"Uh, no, ma'am. Just silently marveling at how inspiring this chapter is," Adam said, flashing his most innocent smile.
---
After enduring history class, Adam trudged to his next humiliation: sword training.
The training grounds were a sprawling open area, filled with students sparring under the watchful eyes of their instructors. Adam stood awkwardly at the edge, clutching a wooden practice sword that felt heavier than it should.
"Ready, Moris?" barked his instructor, a towering woman with arms that looked like they could crush boulders.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Adam muttered, which was code for *'Nope, not even close.'*
His sparring partner was a girl half his size, but her grin was downright predatory.
"Try not to cry this time, noble boy," she taunted.
The fight began, and Adam immediately swung wide, missing her by a mile. She ducked, dodged, and landed a clean hit on his side.
"Ow!" Adam yelped, stumbling back.
"Pathetic," the instructor muttered. "Again."
This pattern repeated five more times. By the end, Adam was sprawled on the ground, his sword lying uselessly a few feet away.
"Congratulations," the instructor said dryly. "You've officially set a new record for failure."
Adam groaned, staring up at the sky. "If anyone needs me, I'll be here. Forever. Just me and my crushed dignity."
---
Magic class wasn't any better.
"Concentrate, Moris," his tutor instructed, her voice tinged with frustration. "Feel the mana within you and guide it into the crystal. Gently, now."
Adam stared at the glowing orb in his hands like it was a particularly annoying math problem. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus. He imagined energy flowing through him, pooling in his palms, and—
*Fizzle.*
The crystal dimmed, letting out a sad little puff of smoke.
"Ugh," the tutor groaned. "You're trying too hard! Magic isn't about force; it's about finesse."
"Right," Adam muttered. "Because nothing says 'finesse' like a fireball to the face."
The tutor pinched the bridge of her nose. "At this rate, you'll be lucky to light a candle by next year."
"Well, candles are overrated anyway," Adam quipped.
---
By the end of the day, Adam found himself wandering the market district, desperate for a distraction.
The market was a chaotic mix of stalls, street performers, and vendors hawking everything from magical artifacts to roasted meat skewers. Adam's attention was drawn to a small stand selling coins and trinkets.
The coins were fascinating. They came in various sizes and designs, each representing a different kingdom or era. Adam picked one up, examining the intricate engraving.
"This is a silver flyn," the vendor explained. "Worth ten *nyts*."
Adam blinked. "And ten flyn make a gold gore, right?"
"Correct," the vendor said, impressed.
Adam nodded, doing some quick mental math. Based on his deductions, one gold gore was roughly equivalent to ten dollars back on Earth.
"Interesting," Adam muttered. "So, a silver flyn is about a dollar. And a nyt… well, that's basically a dime."
He bought a small trinket, handing over a few flyn. As he walked away, he couldn't help but marvel at how familiar yet alien this world's economy was.
---
Back at home, Adam collapsed onto his bed, exhausted but not entirely defeated.
"Let's recap," he said aloud. "History is propaganda. Magic hates me. Swords are sticks designed to humiliate me. On the bright side, I'm still the second-best student in my class. On the not-so-bright side, that's mostly because I know math and science from Earth."
He smirked faintly. "But hey, at least I can count coins. That's gotta count for something, right?"
Adam's thoughts drifted back to the history books and the glaring inconsistencies they contained. The absence of normal humans, the glorification of women, and the constant portrayal of men as secondary—it all felt too deliberate.
"You know," he mused, "there's a reason none of this adds up. But that's a spoiler. A big one. And I'm not here to ruin the surprise. So, stick around. Things are just getting started."
*
*
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Character Note
So-Hey, it's me Adam, your favorite background character. Just a quick PSA: If you ever get reincarnated, don't let people convince you sword fighting is fun. It's not. It's a medieval gym class designed to remind you of how much you suck. Also, if history books look suspiciously one-sided, they probably are. Anyway, thanks for sticking around. Keep reading; it's only going to get weirder from here!