Kana Ast. The stargazing fourth princess of the Astra Kingdom.

Unlike her family members, she was actually quite gifted, being heralded as a genius for figuring out how to multiply at five years old…

Education was hard to come by no matter where one was. However, in the Corrupt Realm, education and intelligence did little to help one in society. No, you needed strength.

If someone said you were wrong, just beat them up and make them say you were right. If you didn’t like the truth, make the truth regret incurring your ire.

And well, little Kana wasn’t as strong as her peers. She just couldn’t attune herself to any of the star or moon essences, which is sad, considering she is royalty of a kingdom that is legitimately called star.

In other words, the princess of the Star Kingdom couldn’t use the famed star magicks.

But it didn’t matter. Intelligence had it’s own use in a world of muscleheads. And she already had plans.

Plans that didn’t involve some dumbass bumping into her.

“Ah, my apologies,” The unfamiliar face intoned rather insincerely.

This reminded of an old quote her father had once told her.

Could’a, would’a, should’a. She could’a punched him. She would’a punched him. She should’a punched him.

But she didn’t. Though her family may have followed this outdated philosophy, she knows that that’s how you make enemies. That being the reason why everyone is against this little Kingdom. Not to say the Astra Kingdom couldn’t hold their own, after all, this martial doctrine was developed solely because they could beat the crap out of anyone in their way, but that didn’t work when you were ganged up on. It was time for the good ol’ left right good night to make its exit.

Instead, she followed a new philosophy of her own making. Something better suited to today’s turbulent climate.

Though there may be a Hell to hello, an end to friendship, the if in life, and over in lover. There’s no wrong in violence!

And her retro fashioned hand rifle was calling her to the sacred act. It was a gift from a traveller she met on one of her escapades. It was engraved with a strange symbol, nothing to clue her in on his identity. It wasn’t something anyone knew about.

But she’d find out eventually. She always found out.

Anyways, back to the situation at hand, the fourth princess just pulled a stick up on a suspected trespasser. Suspected for now, because he had an arm brace with the text ‘ImPeRtanT PreSn’ plastered on it. And shooting someone with such an authentic identification may produce a stronger backfire than her frontfire.

So she gave her proposition before things were chucked in the deep end, “Get the Hell back, traitor scum!”

This seemed to elicit an attitude change from this bastard.

“Woah woah woah!” He complies, “Put the gu— Wait, you have guns here? The fu—? I thought this was a fantasy world…”

Kana didn’t know what a gun was. But she knew this was potentially a demon. Granted, her knowledge of demons only extended to, ‘If it ain’t from home, it’s from Hell.’ And she already had a hunch on this ImPeRtanT PreSn’s true identity. That Pantheon servant those traitorous nobles summoned.

There were two things she could glean from this. It isn’t from home —home being the Corrupt Realm—. Therefore, it must be from Hell. But she couldn’t be too sure. And she wasn’t going to act on her impulses, not like her father would.

“Tell me who you are,” she demanded awkwardly. She was new to the whole talk it out thing, after all, getting this far was a miracle. Usually, the target would’ve either started running or rushing, because, inevitably, getting shot hurts and no one willingly stands on the firing line, “If you spout horseshite, you’re going to get shot.”

“Uhh, I’m the guy you people summoned. Don’t you think it’s a bit ridiculous to summon me then shoot me?”

“I didn’t summon you, nor would I summon you.”

“Okay… Can you let me go now?”

Kana was sure as ever now. This was definitely that servant of The Pantheon. An enemy of her lordship the King first and foremost, but also an enemy of Spring. And that was unforgivable. The pink of begonias was the colour of her Kingdom and also the colour she was born with. The great Season Spring was not on kind terms with The Pantheon that tried to exert power over nature’s own.

So her answer wasn’t changed from the beginning, “Yesn’t.”

One round should be enough, so three were plenty. It’d been a long time since she last made out with her little friend. She beamed and her friend beamed back.

“Time to die little hero.”

…

If he could describe his time here with one song it’d be, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now,’ but if you replaced all iterations of good, with bad. Because Reon was having a bad time, and everything was out to stop him.

Getting isekaied to some fantasy world? Dream come true. Reon was a man of much culture. Being told that his enemy wasn’t the demon king? A bit of turnoff but still okay. His enemy is straight up the king? A strange turn, but it wasn’t an unfamiliar trope. There are demi human ladies? Overthrowing the king seems worth it. Vive le peuple!

The princess shooting him though? Everything is clearly not fine.

Ignoring how she has a gun, he didn’t think royalty would be about without attendants like that. Releasing a deep exhale he slumped beside a couple street side stalls. It was pure luck that he managed to escape that princess. She was a good shot, landing a couple shots on Reon.

It was even luckier that they were clean shots, otherwise bandaging them wouldn’t be so easy.

This was not how Reon expected to start his new life in fantasy. But what would you expect when you’re dumped in a place straight up called the ‘Corrupt Realm’? A fair legal system and welcoming inhabitants? For every second spent in the Corrupt Realm, three witchhunts would have begun.

Well, no matter, the greater the hardship, the greater the reward. And he was —somewhat— sure he’d get his reward. But damn, getting shot really hurt. Not that Reon could gauge how painful getting shot was, but he was sure this hurt more than usual. He felt like he was gonna die.

“You good?”

But then he saw an angel. With a dashing fair skin and white wings, pure like the clouds. When all had passed him by, only an angel would come to his aid.

“Mmm, I’ma leave if you’re good,” She said as she waved her hand in front of Reon’s face a couple times, totally ignoring the blood splatters.

“Ah wait!” Coming back to his senses, he recalled how badly shot he was, “Can you help me out a bit?”

And unbeknownst to Reon, his little angel had already regretted letting curiosity get the better of her. If he was gonna die, he should just die, then she could at least reacquistion his effects without an upshot. But well, she could run away. She could.

Jeffrey would. Hell, Jimmy would as well, in fact, Jimmy might even go as far as to stab the guy and hurry the procession.

That guy was wild.

But no, she wasn’t gonna be like her ignomious role models. She was better than them, in every conceivable way, and she helped patch up the wounded stranger, using up her precious moon essence to allay the pain, such was the nature of the tranquil moonlight. And after, she did something completely different than what Jeffrey or anyelse would’ve done.

“I’m a bit hungry, you’ll help me out, right?”

Unable to forget the first act of kindness he was shown in this Corrupt Realm, Reon only had one answer. “Yes, my angel.” Which was a bit creepy, but we’ll ignore that.

Well, Lily was still damned shameless as always, but she’d at least be different from her role models. And that’s what really matters at the end of day. To not chase after someone elses back but to just be yourself.

Thank you for tuning in today and I hope that you too, can be yourself.

— The Navy Narrator.