"A kingdom is the extended shadow of its king."
– Anonymous quote
The world that scholars sometimes called Aerdenreich was not a place of peace. It was a fragmented chessboard where the only immutable law remained domination. Ambitious Kaiserreichs, Herzogtums jealous of their prerogatives, blood-thirsty orc tribes, reclusive elven kingdoms, and dwarven citadels carved from rock itself disputed every parcel of land, every vein of ore, every source of mana. Weakness transformed into a death sentence; strength offered only a promise of ephemeral survival.
At the heart of this merciless melee stood the Kaiserreich Valora, a name whispered with a mixture of reverent fear and thrill by its neighbors. A kingdom whose power rested neither on impenetrable walls nor conventional armies, but on something far more... insidious and magnificent. It was the domain of the Emperor, served by legions whose beauty rivaled their lethality, with their claws and spells.
I had no kingdom. No army. Not even a future to speak of. I was simply Kenji Tanaka, an ordinary high school student returning home after an unremarkable day. The kind of guy whose face people forget a week after graduation. My only source of light, my only breath of fresh air in this otherwise dull existence: Yuu. My girlfriend. Her smile illuminated my world, her messages made my heart vibrate for hours. We built projects together. Simple teenage dreams—university, outings, a shared future.
The key turned in our apartment lock, a smile already forming on my lips at the idea of surprising her. She had told me she would be studying at home today. Kaito, my older brother, was supposed to be out with friends. The apartment should be quiet, just the two of us.
But the sounds filtering from under the door suggested nothing like a study session. They were... moans. Stifled laughter. The sound of skin against skin. My blood froze in my veins. No. Impossible. Not Yuu. Not Kaito.
I pushed the door slowly, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. The scene before me shattered my universe into a thousand sharp fragments. On the living room couch—where Yuu and I watched movies, where we shared our tender moments—there they were. My brother and my girlfriend. Entwined. Naked. Their bodies intertwined in a tableau of betrayal so complete, so crushing, that the air seemed to be sucked from my lungs.
Yuu raised her eyes, and her gaze widened, a mixture of panic and guilt sweeping away the expression of pleasure that had been there a second before. Kaito grunted, unaware for a moment, then spotted me, his face going through the same stages of shock and, more unbearable still, irritation.
They mumbled words. Clumsy excuses. Pitiful justifications. But I couldn't hear anything anymore. The noise in my ears was a deafening roar, the dissonant symphony of my heart breaking while racing uncontrollably. A searing pain exploded in my chest, an icy grip that tightened, again and again...
My legs gave way. I collapsed, air hissing out of my throat. The last image etched on my retina: their blurry faces, distorted by my darkening vision, before darkness engulfed everything. The pain. The sound. The world. Finished.
***
Light. Not the harsh lighting of the living room, but a soft, golden glow filtering through sumptuous drapes. A smell... far from the familiar scents of the apartment, a complex, exotic perfume with notes of rare flowers and perhaps... incense? My head was spinning, and my chest... the pain had vanished. In its place, a disconcerting sensation, as if I were simultaneously lighter than air and anchored to the ground.
A groan escaped me as I tried to move. My body responded, but no longer seemed quite my own. More powerful? Different? Where was I? Had I survived? The hospital? But the sheets caressing my skin were real silk, of unprecedented softness.
I opened my eyes. The ceiling above me was adorned with elaborate frescoes and gold leaf moldings. The room was immense, far vaster than anything I had known, furnished with a luxury that would have transformed a palace into a simple roadside inn. Tapestries covered the walls, their patterns both foreign and hypnotic.
"Master? You're awake?"
The voice was melodious, velvety, but carried a subtly... non-human resonance. I turned toward its source. Beside the bed stood two women. "Women" was a cruelly reductive term. They were of stunning beauty, a perfection that bordered on the unreal. Long silky hair in unusual shades—jet black streaked with purplish highlights for one, flaming red for the other—framed delicate faces with captivating, intense eyes. Their silhouettes... their silhouettes seemed sculpted by an artist obsessed with perfection, molded in light outfits that suggested more than they concealed—diaphanous veils, vaporous fabrics draped with consummate art. And their expressions... they looked at me with pure devotion and... was it desire?
They carried trays loaded with steaming water and immaculate towels.
"You slept well, Master," whispered the second, her voice just as enchanting. "Your bath is prepared."
My mind struggled to assimilate the situation. Master? My bath? Who were these women? And why were they looking at me like that?
Before I could articulate a coherent question, they approached the bed with feline grace. One gently slid her hand under my neck to support me, while the other pulled back the sheets. I was... completely naked under the silk. A wave of heat invaded my face.
"Don't be shy, Master," whispered the one with purple highlights with a smile that took my breath away. "We are here to serve you."
They helped me leave the bed, my legs still unsteady. It was then that I became aware of the changes. I was taller, more... athletic. My body had mutated. More mature, in the fullness of its strength.
They gently guided me to an adjacent room—a bathroom that would have humiliated imperial thermal baths. A vast marble basin occupied the central space, filled with water perfumed with rare essences. Without a word, they proceeded to help me immerse myself in it.
The scene defied all logic. Two creatures of supernatural beauty, barely clothed, bathing me with religious attention. Their gestures were precise—gently rubbing my skin, pouring water over my shoulders, their fingers brushing my epidermis with troubling familiarity. My heart began to beat furiously again, but this time, the cause was not pain. It was a cocktail of confusion, excitement, absolute incredulity. Their contact... emanated a singular warmth, a subtle energy that radiated from their being. Both soothing and... electrifying. My gaze, despite my desperate efforts to maintain an appearance of dignity, was irremediably drawn to their perfect forms, those generous curves that their outfits only accentuated. The troubling aspect of the situation so far exceeded my frame of reference that it became almost abstract. Who were these women? Incarnate deities? And why, by all the gods, were they treating me like an absolute monarch?
After the bath, they dried me with linens of exquisite softness before leading me back to the bedroom. On a stand waited an outfit. Not a simple garment. A uniform. Immaculate white, tailored with military precision, enhanced with golden trimmings on the collar, cuffs, and epaulettes. Polished black boots, a wide belt adorned with an ornate buckle, and even a white cape lined with imperial purple completed the ensemble. It was not a schoolboy's uniform. It was the attire of a man invested with supreme authority. Of a sovereign. Of an... emperor, as my mind had formulated with sudden clarity.
They dressed me with the same silent efficiency and absolute devotion. The quality of the fabric, the impeccable cut... everything testified to an inestimable value. Facing the full-length mirror (so imposing that it covered an entire wall), I discovered my metamorphosis. The ordinary high school student had disappeared. In his place stood a man with imposing presence, a face with fine features but imbued with natural authority, a gaze (mine? It seemed more piercing, more magnetic) fixing its reflection with a mixture of stupor and inexplicable fascination.
"Perfect, Master," commented the woman with flaming hair, adjusting an epaulette with precision. "You are ready for the day."
The day? Ready for what exactly?
As I was still trying to make sense of this reality—the princely room, the supernaturally beautiful servants, the supreme commander's uniform—the door opened again. Another woman entered. And she was... even more majestic than the previous ones, if such a thing was conceivable.
Her dress, more formal, of a deep red like ancient blood, sublimated her alabaster skin and her ebony hair cascading in silky waves. Her eyes, liquid amber, shone with intelligence and insight. An aura of authority enveloped her, a quiet assurance that distinctly set her apart from the servants. Her expression was not one of blissful adoration, but of professional respect tinged with deference.
"Good morning, Kaiser Konrad," she pronounced in a deep and melodious voice that sent a shiver down my spine. "Forgive my intrusion. These documents require your signature as soon as possible."
She walked to an imposing table and placed on it a stack of thick parchments, sealed with ribbons and wax seals. Her slender finger pointed to a particular document.
"The commercial alliance treaty with the village chiefs of the eastern region. Dorf Eichenwald, Siedlung Bachläufer, and the edge of the Black Forest. They have finally accepted our conditions."
My mind took a dizzying leap. Kaiser Konrad? Treaty? Village chiefs? These names seemed straight out of an ancient grimoire or medieval epic. I examined the document she presented. The writing was foreign to me, but at the top of the page, I clearly distinguished, artfully calligraphed: "Kaiserreich Valora". And just below, a name. My name, apparently: Konrad. Followed by a title. "Der Kaiser". Emperor.
Reality, as absurd as it was, began to impose itself with crystalline clarity. This sumptuous chamber, these servants, this uniform, this woman who called me "Kaiser"... I was no longer Kenji. I had become Konrad. In a parallel world? And I was absolute sovereign?
While my mind wavered under the weight of this impossible revelation, my gaze, despite the shock, drifted almost despite myself. The woman with protocol manners waited patiently. The servants stood slightly back, their eyes riveted on me with barely veiled veneration. Their outfits... my gaze lingered a moment too long on the vertiginous neckline of the nearest servant. The perfect curve... the diaphanous skin...
Pulling myself together with effort, shaking my head to dispel this fog of confusion and these troubling images, I asked the only question that still made sense to the Kenji imprisoned within me.
"Wait... where am I exactly? What am I doing here?"
The silence that followed became heavy. The protocol woman arched an eyebrow, a shadow of concern crossing her usually impassive face. One of the servants—the one whose silhouette had captured my attention the moment before—came forward, a delicate hand brushing my forehead with solicitude.
"Unser Kaiser..." she whispered in a voice soft as silk, tinged with sincere concern. "...would you... have a fever? You are here... at home. At Burg Schattenfels. You are our master. The King of Valora."
The King of Valora. These words resonated in my soul like a death knell, a vertiginous truth. I was not in a feverish dream. I was not in a hospital bed. I was here. In another world. A universe of magic and kingdoms in perpetual war. With an army of fantasy creatures—or nightmare?—at my disposal. And I was their undisputed master. Their Emperor. The King of Succubi.
Confusion gave way to an even deeper shock. Then, slowly, another sensation began to emerge within me, something far more powerful and unexpected than fear or incredulity.