I was possessed as the losing male lead of a romance fantasy.

The original ending? Obsessed with the female lead, then executed by guillotine.

So I gave up on the heroine without a second thought and fled to a place no romance-fantasy protagonist would ever willingly go.

A course called “Practical Magic Applications for Great Magical Beasts in the Frontier Region,” where the stench of mud and monster blood hangs in the air.

I figured that if I buried myself there as a professor—right in the perfect blind spot of a romance fantasy filled with romance and political intrigue—I’d never have to get involved with the original story.

Or so I thought.

The first name on the class roster is the heroine.

The second is the Crown Prince.

...Aren't you two supposed to be romance-fantasy protagonists, not battle junkies?!