Prologue

Hey. They call me a genius. So... what was the title again? Honestly, it doesn't ring a bell. Something like 'The Reincarnated Villainess Count's Daughter Hates the Sub-Male Lead' or whatever. Your typical story about a protagonist reincarnated into the body of some badass count's villainess daughter. She ditches the original heroine and hero, hooks up with a rude but sword-genius sub-male lead who's all that and a bag of chips, and they live happily ever after after some drama. You know the drill. Stuff happens, affection levels max out, they date, marry, a few side stories, and boom—complete. Or something like that. I didn't even finish it.

"But why."

But seriously.

"Why the fuck am I here?"

Why the hell was I inside that world?

"Whoa... fuck, what is this shit?"

Why me? Why this body?

I'd been seriously pondering that since day one.

I wasn't even a die-hard fan. I bailed around episode 60. No big reason. My sister nagged me to read it with her, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that's all. I don't even like romance fantasies. The fact that I made it to 60 is impressive. It was kinda fun, though. But then I had to go to work, so I dropped it—and that's when the accident happened.

Next thing I know, I wake up somewhere else.

Where am I? Who am I?

My name wasn't Jin Yu-min anymore. I'd opened my eyes in the body of some rootless kid named Ruin.

Rootless meaning he was an orphan. No idea who his parents were, raised in an orphanage—that kind of guy.

I regained my past-life memories in that worthless shell.

Wait, isn't a romance fantasy supposed to be all fluffy noble romance and happy endings? Why the fuck am I an orphan?

This is bullshit. And on top of that.

"Cough! Cough!"

"Ru-Ruin! Are you okay?"

My body was trashed too. Cough a few times and I'm hacking up blood. Look at this shit.

Ah, fuck. The reincarnation gacha is royally screwed.

Of all the bodies to land in, why this one?

Even the moment I regained my memories was a mess. Burning up with fever, breath cut off for a second. I clawed back my memories and barely started breathing again.

Simple terms?

I'd already died once.

That's how I saw it—died and came back with memories intact. And now? On death's door again.

"Haa, ha... "

I wiped the sweat. Fuck, it hurt like hell. Breathing alone felt like my throat was clogged. Heart pounding like it might burst if I poked it.

"J-Just hold on a bit...! The director said he's calling a priest...!"

Elaine. A girl from the same orphanage.

I chuckled inwardly at that.

As if.

Ruin's head was stocked with this world's common knowledge and info. That's how I knew this was the romance fantasy I'd read.

This was the Lehart Empire's outskirts. Connected to the north. Freezing-ass cold place. Snow falling, piling up—that kind of spot.

Funny to think a priest would come here.

What orphanage director calls a priest to save an orphan kid?

Priests. Those expensive fucks. Calling one to save me? Bullshit.

And our director wasn't even human.

Not that guy.

The more orphans you cram in, the more subsidies you get. He was milking the Lehart Emperor's policy like that.

We didn't get straight-up abused, but I remembered him letting sick kids like this die untreated and just tossing the bodies.

In places where directors straight-up kill the sick ones, this was practically merciful.

"Cough—!!"

"Ruin...!!"

This way, I'd just croak. I knew it. No priest coming. And today was the crisis point.

Ah, fucked.

I thought it wouldn't be today. Plan's busted.

A month since I awakened to my past life. I knew my body inside out.

A walking corpse. Perfect term.

Didn't know the exact disease—I'm no doctor. But natural recovery? Impossible. And the director sure as shit wasn't treating me.

So what now?

Struggle to live, duh.

I couldn't just die like this. No clue why I reincarnated or why this godforsaken world, but.

Fuck it.

No matter how much they screwed me, I'd survive and see.

That was the goal.

"Ru-Ruin! Where are you going!"

I dragged my unsteady body up and moved. Did I have strength to run? Fever crushing me, but I bolted.

Grabbed the pouch in my corner on the way. Money inside. What I'd scrounged over the month.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I'd tried everything with this body. Not much, mouse-shit amounts, but grabbed it first.

When is it?

Plan was simple. A priest hits the streets soon. Heard one from the Holy Kingdom coming for a North Sea schedule.

Not just any priest.

The Saintess.

The new Saintess from the Holy Kingdom, heading here herself. Today.

Didn't know why. Orphanage gossip ain't that hot.

But the director's "bringing a priest" was half-true. One was coming—just not for me.

My target?

Meet the priest.

Priests were noble-tier in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this world, but if this was that novel, then.

Holy Kingdom priests are pure as fuck.

Holy folks vowing to uphold the white world. If they matched the novel, this could work.

Beg them to save me. Narrow-minded, simple—but highest odds.

Problem?

Agh, goddamn it...

Body couldn't hold. Kid shell wrecked by dogshit disease. Useless.

Cold...

Northern continent too harsh for this frail ass. Little run and I'm freezing solid. Mind fogging already.

Still, made it from orphanage to street.

Priest... where's the priest?

Where? No procession. People were supposed to crowd for the Holy Kingdom's Saintess?

Bullshit. Nothing.

"Ah.... ugh...."

Legs buckling. Can't run. Vision whiteout ages ago.

"Aah...."

Even breath hurts. Wrong spot? Can't be.

"Huff... haa...."

Drip. Something from my mouth. Blood.

Wiped it with my hand.

Walk, you crazy fuck. Walk.

Self-pep-talked my thigh. Move, bitch.

Can't die here. Born in shit body? Still surviving.

Swallowed bloody spit and staggered on.

Then.

"..."

Turned my head. Sweet scent hit my nose.

"This...?"

What? Scent aside, something visible. Blue-green glow. Like heat haze blooming, stringing into lines in the air.

No clue. Staring at the line, saw it connected to someone.

Foggy haze everywhere, but that flow? Crystal clear.

Need priest. Thought that, but feet moved on their own.

Line led to a robed figure. Confirmed, and I poured my last heat into a sprint.

Why? Instinct.

"Hm?"

Grabbed the robe.

"What the—?"

Slender voice. Face blurry.

"What's this kid? How'd you grab me?"

"...Haa... haa.... P-Please... save... me."

"What?"

She reacted.

"Well, look at this. Mana sickness? In this backwater? Obviously a commoner."

"Haa.... huff...."

"Fun.... Even grabbed me?"

She leaned down. My knees buckled long ago.

Splatter!!!

Couldn't hold the blood anymore. Soaked the ground.

"You're dying soon. You know that, right?"

"Huff... haa."

Couldn't answer proper.

"They'd lop heads for touching my body in the Empire. But you're entertaining, so I'll let it slide. Ah, right—you begged to live?"

Laughter in her voice. Sounds around stopped. Hers cut through clear. Weirdly.

"Fine. Guess right, and I'll save you."

Something appeared before me. Her finger, looks like.

"What do you sense?"

What to see? Stared at the finger.

"Guess. Then I'll save you."

"..."

Looking, something on the finger. The blue-green gathered, forming something.

But.

Not this...

I eyed past the number on her finger. Something deeper, profound. Vast, captivating my gaze.

Saw it, and my hand moved. Trembling index finger pointed.

"Hm?"

"...Eight...."

"Huh?"

My finger passed her hand, to her chest. Heart area.

"Eight and a half."

Said it exact.

Thud.

Blackout, collapsed.

Body hit nothing. Ground untouched.

Woooong—!!!

Glow enveloped, floated me.

"Ahaha...."

"Ahahahahaha."

She laughed.

"Whoa, this crazy kid."

Magenta eyes sparked interest.

"What the hell is this?"

Pointed to her chest—not hand.

And not eight.

"Half?"

Eight and a half. That vague number hooked her.

"You."

Definite.

"You see it?"

Not sense—see.

Dying body, and her lips curved up.

Eight and a half.

Rings bound to her heart.

No one in the Empire could see it. This kid did.

"Fun."

She grinned.

"Promise kept. I'll save you."

Not the answer, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she was satisfied. Rare sight in this dump—worth it.

Besides.

"Thanks to you, the Saintess lives."

This little thing sparked her whim. The Saintess meant to die by her hand today survived.