So Gunther didn’t chase after me. Probably because he had to be mindful of others’ eyes.
…Or maybe he didn’t even feel the need to chase me.
Perhaps he was confident that even if he let me run away, I would realize the reality soon enough and come back on my own?
After all, there would be no place to welcome a woman who had betrayed her homeland and sided with another country.
As he confidently blabbered, to the people of the Rhine Kingdom, Brunhilde would already be nothing more than a traitor deserving of death.
A party member who was given national funds to assist the hero well, only to gobble up money and support before slipping away to another country.
On top of that, coincidentally, all three party members were women in their prime, so it wouldn’t be strange if rumors spread that the reason for their defection was related to a love affair.
Come to think of it, it’s not just a rumor. The other two might be, but I’m not on Gunther’s bed.
…Anyway, in such a situation, even if I went back to Friet’s party, I’d be lucky to escape a stoning, let alone being treated as a returned prodigal.
In the worst case, I might even be arrested and thrown in prison as soon as I arrived.
You might ask, couldn’t I just flee to another country besides Rhine?
Well, the kingdom of another hero wouldn’t trust a woman who had abandoned her party twice in a row either.
At best, they might use me as a disposable pawn.
There’s no need to even mention the countries ruled by non-human races.
In a world where even humans don’t care about each other’s human rights, how could those of a different race care about human rights?
Unless one had a dark desire to be treated like a slave, those were places one shouldn’t even approach without backing.
In the end, for Brunhilde to remain a member of a hero party, there was no other way but to return and cling to Gunther.
So from Gunther’s perspective, there was no need to chase after me at all.
He could just wait leisurely with a confident attitude, and then grab Brunhilde when she returned with a frustrated face and throw her on the bed.
Maybe right now, he’s rolling around with the women on the bed, betting on when Brunhilde will return.
He probably hasn’t even considered the possibility that I might not return.
Because Brunhilde, who made it her mission to revive the Eisenstein family that had been exterminated for treason, couldn’t possibly give up her only means as a hero party member.
If it were Brunhilde.
…Of course, contrary to his expectations, Brunhilde won’t return to him.
Because I’m not Brunhilde. I’m just a poor, pitiful avid reader who has been possessed into her body.
The revival of the Eisenstein family? Why should I care about that? It’s not even my family.
I don’t know why Brunhilde was so obsessed with reviving the Eisenstein family. The novel was completed before that content even came out.
But even if I knew, I wouldn’t have cared.
When you think about it, all the shame, humiliation, hardship, and death that Brunhilde experienced were all because of her obsession with reviving her family. Why would I be crazy enough to follow that?
I don’t even have the ability to follow it in the first place.
Unlike Brunhilde, who was close to a genius as a knight, I’ve never even seen swordsmanship.
The capacity itself would be the same as the original Brunhilde… but is fighting something that can be resolved by capacity alone?
If I tried to fight relying only on strength without knowing any swordsmanship, I’d immediately become a half-orc production machine if I encountered an orc.
They are also stronger and faster than ordinary humans, but unlike me, they would have properly mastered weapon techniques.
So I had no intention whatsoever of living as a knight in a hero party like the original Brunhilde.
No, I had no intention of living as a knight at all from the start.
The minimum cutoff line for monsters that knights deal with is usually an orc warrior, but as I just said, if I encountered an orc, I would certainly be writhing in bed rather than wielding a sword.
If I had intended to meet such an end, I might as well have just closed my eyes and clung to that bastard Gunther.
It’s truly disgusting, making me nauseous just thinking about it… but still, it might be better than becoming a prisoner of orcs.
Becoming a quarter-elf mother vs. becoming a half-orc mother.
Unless you’re insane, who would choose the latter in this situation?
Of course, the former was just as shitty.
That’s why as soon as I made my decision, I immediately ran away and sprinted all the way here.
Like the protagonist of an old novel who chose a neutral country after being disappointed with both South and North Korea, I wanted to choose a third option that was neither.
…Although the protagonist of that novel ended up throwing himself into the sea and becoming fish food, anyway.
In any case, even though it was a half-impulsive decision, the fact that I managed to escape safely this far seems to indicate that I had made a more or less correct choice.
The problem is… what to do from now on…
* * *
“Haaah…”
I sighed deeply enough to sink the ground and leaned my head against the tree trunk.
My mind was complicated. Like having seven different broadcast channels on at the same time.
It was fortunate that I had escaped the immediate crisis, but thinking about the future still made me feel like everything was going dark.
How on earth should I live here?
And with Brunhilde’s body, at that.
They say life is a comedy when viewed from afar, but a tragedy when viewed up close. The same was true for novels.
When reading mere letters on a liquid crystal screen or turning pages, it was just someone else’s story, so I could laugh and enjoy it…
But the novel had become reality. At least for me.
So this was a tragedy. And an unspeakably horrible one at that.
Can you understand that bleakness?
I, who had poured hundreds of characters of criticism in the comment section whenever Brunhilde appeared, saying ‘Don’t torment her, just kill her please!’, had become that very Brunhilde.
A bolt from the blue. I didn’t even know the cause.
Was it some transcendent being like a god who decided to mess with me, as is often the case, or was it just a disaster like coincidence or a natural calamity that befell me?
However, if someone had possessed me into this body… then this much was certain.
I don’t know who or where they are, but that being must have a personality that loves to mock terribly.
Otherwise, why would they choose me of all people and stuff me into Brunhilde’s body?
It must have been their intention to make the person who kept saying ‘just kill her’ experience being in her body.
And that intention seemed to have hit the mark splendidly. Judging by how I feel like I’ve received a lifetime’s worth of mockery all at once.
* * *
Crack, crackle.
The bone-dry branches break like the waist of a mother with an unemployed son, letting out strangely cheerful death rattles.
I was running again. Along an overgrown path in the forest that was starting to darken.
I still hadn’t decided how to live from now on, but I couldn’t just sit still like this either.
Who knows, Gunther, having reached post-nut clarity thanks to Imelia and Irina, might change his mind and decide it’s better to just drag me back rather than wait.
So I had to escape at least to a place where Gunther couldn’t track me even if he changed his mind.
So where exactly do I need to escape to, you ask?
Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? I need to get out of Burgundy at the very least.
Gunther Hagen is the hero of the Kingdom of Burgundy. If I cross over to another country and hide quietly, he won’t be able to find me either.
So where should I go?
In this world, the world of Nibelungen Tragödie, there were seven countries.
Two countries of different races, one country of demons. The remaining four were human countries.
The Kingdom of Burgundy, Gunther’s base.
The Kingdom of Rhine, Brunhilde’s homeland and Friet’s base.
These two are out for now. Even if I cover my face here, my identity would be discovered immediately.
So there are only two options left…
I had to give up on the base of the Eastern hero, Atli Etzel.
That’s an empire of a race that’s different from Brunhilde’s, so I would stand out too much.
In the end, there was only one country where I could hide and live.
The powerful country in the north of the continent. Hervor.
The Kingdom of Hervor would be perfect for hiding as long as I didn’t run into its hero, Heid.
* * *
Two months passed after that.
Two terribly eventful months.
It was more than enough time for me to newly realize that this world was truly a dog-shit place.
And to crumple up and throw away the life plan I had roughly thought up while heading north, like a piece of trash.
What on earth happened, you ask?
Well, if I were to explain everything in detail, even a full day wouldn’t be enough.
So, to summarize it in one sentence…
The number of loaves of bread I’ve eaten since being possessed into this world is about the same as the number of people I’ve killed?
That’s right.
A Korean youth who had never even twisted a chicken’s neck became a legendary murderer who killed over a hundred people in just two months.
And that was me.
Really, fuck. I can’t believe it.
It was impossible to hold back the curses. Because all those murders were entirely in self-defense.
What a crazy world this is.