Ch.00. Proposal

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The butterfly effect is a real son of a bitch.

Of course, the phenomenon itself isn’t at fault.

It’s only natural that results change according to changing conditions.

But the existence of such a phenomenon implies that even the tiniest choice can completely alter a person’s destiny.

“My dear.”

Therefore, the butterfly effect is a son of a bitch. At least to me.

To put it simply.

I’ve made a few regrettable choices in my life.

Choices that led me to my current situation.

You know, there’s that one in particular.

I should never have played that game.

[Savior Rising]

“SR” for short. An academy setting. An orthodox, fresh youth action drama featuring vibrant young men and women. Characters with a strong otaku vibe but familiar and reliable appeal.

It was a decent game.

If only I hadn’t been possessed and trapped inside it.

Does that make any sense? Getting trapped inside a game just because you played it?

I could understand if I’d been cursed by some godlike developer for criticizing their work, or if I had some extraordinary attachment to the protagonist that caused the possession. At least that would be a clear reason.

I played through to the end as usual, saw the ending, nodded with satisfaction at how enjoyable it was, and went to bed.

Then the next day—possession. Ta-da.

“My dear. Are you listening?”

I don’t answer.

Perhaps they won’t notice I’m in here.

Yeah. Please, just go away.

“I already know you’re in there. It would be better to open the door quietly.”

“…”

“I’ve already asked Lady Ophelia, the dormitory supervisor. I understand you have no classes scheduled today.”

“…”

This person is a genuine stalker.

I need to think of another approach…

“Fine. You intend to ignore me completely, I see.”

A sigh-laden sentence continued from beyond the dormitory door.

“Then I’ll cut my way in.”

What a lunatic.

Before I could even express that sentiment, a pitch-black sword that seemed to devour all surrounding light pierced through my private room’s door.

The dormitory facilities of the Imperial Academy Elphante are designed to keep students safe inside even if an enraged giant monster goes on a rampage outside.

That means it’s not easy for a human to break through this door.

Which means this lady who’s cutting through the door as if it were cardboard is terrifyingly powerful.

“…Isn’t this against school regulations?”

“The student council is responsible for enforcing punishment procedures for regulation violations. Coincidentally, I currently hold the position of student council president.”

My opponent flatly stated her intention to abuse her authority in a monotone voice.

The black longsword is quietly sheathed. A black scabbard matching her black attire.

Though her uniform is black from head to toe, her exposed face is frighteningly pale. Intense red eyes contrasting with that paleness, and snow-white hair flowing down to her back.

And holding all these striking features together in harmony is her distinctive “aristocratic” aura.

A memorable appearance that sticks in my mind.

No, it’s impossible to forget.

“I came because I have something to say. You’ve been avoiding me consistently as of late.”

“…”

“Approximately… 32 times, I believe?”

“…Why are you counting such things?”

While responding curtly, I gather and organize the information popping up in my head.

Elnore, student council president of Elphante Academy.

Accomplished in both literary and martial arts. Also a lady of the Tristan Dukedom, and a super-popular figure recognized throughout all grades of the academy.

She’s a naturally dazzling person. By all accounts, she should have no reason to cross paths with an unremarkable freshman like me.

That’s how it should have been, anyway.

“…”

From the beginning, it would have been much better for me not to get involved with her.

A few more images flash through my mind.

Illustrations and CGs I saw in the “original work.”

Elnore covered in blood. Elnore swinging her black longsword and piling up mountains of corpses. Elnore commanding armies of demons and monsters with her ominous glowing red eyes.

And so on. And so forth.

What’s certain is that she consistently gives one impression no matter how you look at her.

That of a “terrifyingly evil person.”

Yes, why hide it?

This person is the “final boss” of this SR world. Someone who will eventually plunge this entire world into a fiery pit if the protagonist doesn’t stop her.

She should have just passed by an extra like me without a second glance.

“You know very well why I’ve come here.”

However, it’s all too late now.

The butterfly’s wing flaps have compounded upon each other, resulting in the situation I’m facing now.

Red eyes glare at me coldly. Her hand grips the hilt of the black longsword tighter.

Her already heavy atmosphere grows even more solemn.

And then her lips part again.

“I ask you, Darwood Campbell.”

She unleashes the “storm” created by the butterfly’s wing flaps.

“Will you marry me?”

“…”

Really.

I hold my dizzy head at these words that don’t become any less shocking no matter how many times I hear them.

Darwood Campbell.

The heir to a remote barony with zero recognition. A freshman at the academy. A bottom-tier extra in this world.

Such a person was now…

Being proposed to by a woman who would bring about the end of the world in a few years.

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