The journey to the north

Slowly, like a condemned soul looking up at their executioner, I raised my eyes. My heart lurched in terror before relief crashed over me. It was the prince.

"What are you doing?" .

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

Oh, thank the gods, he's still wearing clothes!

His voice cold and measured, with just a hint of confusion—probably because he caught me crawling on the ground like some crab from the shore. But I can't help it, my legs had gone completely numb from sitting too long

"I... I was just..." I stammered, my brain scrambling for an excuse. Any excuse.

"...admiring the grass?" I blurted out, grabbing a handful of it for emphasis, as if that would somehow make my ridiculous answer more believable.

His sharp gaze bore into me, unamused. "Admiring...the grass," he repeated flatly, as though he couldn't decide if I was insane or just hopeless.

"Yes! Grass!" I said, doubling down, clutching them like they were my last lifeline. "It's so... uh... green?"

I paused, realizing how silly I sounded, but it was too late now. Inside, I cringed so hard I felt like crawling into a hole. Why did I say that?

"What about you, Your Highness? What brings you here?" I asked, trying to act calm, even though I wanted to disappear.

The prince's expression shifted into something even colder, his voice dripping with arrogance as he replied, "I don't need to report my move to you."

"Right? Of course, Your Highness," I squeaked, my forced smile threatening to split my face. But inside, I was cursing him with every insult I could think of. Arrogant royal peacock.

"Please, go ahead," I added hastily, waving my hand as if granting him permission.

He gave me one last look, the kind that screamed pathetic, before turning and striding away with his usual regal flair.

As soon as he was out of sight, I let out a shaky breath and stabbed the grass in frustration. Why, oh why, am I like this?!

This all started because of those damn scrolls in the Homonhon Empire.

Why were they so important to the prince? He was already in power, so why make everyone miserable over some ancient words? From what I could piece together, the scrolls supposedly told a story of dragons and power. But it's not like that power was literally hiding in someone's heart, right?

What was his obsession with this? I'd get it if the scrolls could send me back home—but no. They were just some cryptic, rhyming story about dragons, like one of those crappy fairy tales. Atleast from what I understand.

I shook my head. I didn't have time to waste on these thoughts. Hiding my identity was getting harder by the day, and to make things worse, I couldn't even bathe with all these naked men around. I'd have to wait until they fell asleep and hope the water wasn't ice-cold by then.

[[Several Hours Later]]

"Argh! Why is the water so cold?!" I yelled, stepping into the lake little by little. I hadn't planned to take a bath, but a cricket jumping on my face woke me up, and I couldn't go back to sleep. It had been days since I last cleaned up, and I felt gross. So, with everyone asleep in their tents, I snuck off to wash. My hygiene was officially dead, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

But the water? It was freezing.

"Ah, whatever!" I muttered, shivering as I forced myself in deeper. My teeth were chattering, and every part of me felt like it was being stabbed by tiny ice needles. Is this what dying feels like? My trembling hands worked quickly, scrubbing like my life depended on it, because honestly, it did—any longer and hypothermia might finish the job and end my story.

I peeked over the rocks every few seconds, paranoia creeping in. What if someone showed up? The idea of being caught like this—half-frozen, dripping wet, and looking like a drowned rat—was worse than the cold.

When I finally got out of the lake, I dressed with the speed of someone escaping a natural disaster, wrapping myself in every piece of dry clothing I owned. My fingers barely worked, and my lips felt like they belonged to someone else, but at least I was clean. Kind of.

Huddling by the firepit, I tried to coax warmth back into my bones, but it was useless. My body was staging a mutiny, my hair plastered to my face like a soggy mop. Maybe if I catch a cold, they'll let me out of this madness, I thought grimly, but even that hope was dashed. My immune system, annoyingly efficient, refused to cooperate.

"Of course," I grumbled, "even my own body is against me."

Before I knew it, I fell asleep again, my wet hair sticking to my face.

"Hey, Tuk..."

"Tuk, wake up!"

I jolted awake, gasping for air, my fingers tightly clutching Leon's clothes like they were asking for a fight. The nightmare still clung to me—that headless face from my first day in this world, it became creepy, and smiled at me.

This place... it just keeps giving me new traumas, I thought grimly.

"Are you okay? Sorry for waking you so abruptly, but we have to go now." Leon's voice was soft, but the urgency in his words sent a chill through me. I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, trying to make sense of where I was. The weather wasn't helping—it was as if nature couldn't decide between desert heat or autumn chill. Around us, the camp was bustling, people swiftly packing up. "Everyone's been preparing. we're entering the border of Homonhon."

Ah, that's right... We're at war. Maybe that's why I dreamed of that scene again.

Leon gave me a small smile as he helped me up. "By the way, I didn't know you had curly hair. That's rare—but it suits you."

My hand flew to my head. I'd forgotten to tie my hair before sleeping. It was still damp from last night's freezing lake bath. I fumbled to fix it while following Leon to one of the barracks, my body heavy with exhaustion.

I should've cut it when I had the chance. Keeping my hair in this kind of environment is a nightmare.

As the journey went on, even the trees seemed confused—some had autumn leaves, while others bloomed like it was spring. The ground couldn't decide either, switching between rock-hard and mushy like summer mud.

The warriors? They acted like none of this was strange. They didn't care about the weird creatures rustling in the bushes or staring at us from the trees. Meanwhile, I flinched at every creepy critter that popped out of nowhere. But what really kept the warriors going was every lake or waterfall we passed. Without fail, they'd strip down and dive right in, their... well, mushrooms flapping freely in the breeze.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't avoid seeing it. Each time, my brain screamed, Why, why, why?! But I bit my tongue—causing a scene would only make things worse. So, I told myself to meditate. This is normal, I thought. Just think of it as some weird Adam-and-Eve era.

Yeah, sure. Totally normal. Let's try to enjoy the view.

After what felt like an eternity of endless walking, we finally stumbled out of the forest into a barren, icy wasteland. Snow mixed with dirt crunched underfoot, the air bitterly cold despite the glaring sun overhead. I'd lost track of how many days had passed since we left the palace. The warriors around me marched tirelessly, unbothered by the grueling journey, while I felt like I was slowly dying in heavy armor, each step more agonizing than the last.

Why is it so damn cold now? What's wrong with the weather in this world?! 

My toes throbbed, raw and aching. The nail on my baby toe had already fallen off somewhere along the way, but I didn't even have the energy to care anymore. I just wanted the pain to stop—whether by battle or by the cold, I wasn't picky.

Suddenly, the commander's voice pierced the freezing air. "Heads up, warriors! Anytime now, the battle will begin. Keep your spirits high and show them the strength of the prince's warriors! FOR THE EMPIRE!"

"FOR THE EMPIRE!!!" the warriors roared in unison, their voices a wave of determination.

Meanwhile, all I could think was, The end.

Please let this end.