Lucas immediately sprang out of bed and rushed toward the mirror—or at least, that was what he intended to do.
The moment his bare feet touched the strangely warm wooden floor, he realized two things: first, the bed was much higher than he had anticipated; and second, his body's center of gravity was completely different from what he was used to. The combination proved disastrous. His footing slipped, and before he could correct himself, he toppled forward, crashing face-first onto the floor.
A sharp pain shot through his chest as the two enormous, soft objects attached to him were crushed against the ground. The sensation that followed was… bizarre. It was mostly pain, but there was a faint, unwelcome tinge of something else—something Jack immediately refused to acknowledge.
"Damn…" he groaned as he pushed himself up. But the moment the word left his lips, his entire body tensed.
That voice—it was his voice, yet it wasn't.
Soft, melodious, and unmistakably feminine.
His eyes widened in shock as he instinctively clapped a hand over his mouth. The realization sent a fresh wave of unease coursing through him.
Determined to figure out what had happened, Lucas carefully picked himself up, making sure not to trip again. However, even walking felt off. With every step, the heavy spheres on his chest bounced slightly, turning the simple act of moving into something strangely surreal.
After a short but awkward journey, he finally stood before the regal-looking mirror that dominated the room.
Lucas hesitated for a moment, bracing himself. Then, he forced himself to look.
The reflection staring back at him was, without a doubt, the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen.
She had stunning emerald-green eyes, reminiscent of a lush, tranquil forest in spring. Her soft pink lips were full and sensual, and her delicate features exuded an undeniable elegance—graceful, yet carrying a hint of mature allure. But what truly caught Jack's attention were the long, pointed ears protruding from either side of her head.
His breath hitched.
Slowly, cautiously, he reached up and touched one.
"They're… real," he murmured, feeling the warmth and subtle twitch beneath his fingers.
His mind raced. Was this some kind of isekai scenario? He had watched enough anime with Marco to recognize the classic tropes. But if this was a fantasy world, why was he in a body like this....
Lucas's gaze involuntarily drifted downward, toward the rest of his reflection—the part he had been actively avoiding.
His throat tightened.
There was no denying it—this body was voluptuous. Even through the loose-fitting white nightgown, its exaggerated curves were impossible to conceal. Wide hips, a narrow waist, and, most prominently, the two massive mounds on his chest—each larger than a watermelon.
Lucas swallowed hard.
His eyes traveled lower.
"…I can't see my feet," he muttered, feeling his new face heat up.
From this angle, the sheer size of them was even more pronounced than in the mirror.
A dangerous thought crept into his mind.
The temptation to touch them was overwhelming.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted one of his now slender, delicate hands, reaching toward one of the two soft spheres of flesh.
But just before he could make contact, something caught his eye.
A small letter was attached to the mirror's surface, positioned just near the right edge. It was no bigger than a post-it note.
Lucas froze.
What the hell am I doing?
Reality slammed back into him.
This was not the time to be getting distracted by his own body—no matter how bizarre the transformation was. He had no idea where he was or how he had ended up in this form.
Shaking off his previous thoughts, he immediately grabbed the letter.
The first thing he noticed was that it wasn't taped or stuck to the mirror in any way—yet somehow, it remained perfectly attached to the glass.
That… wasn't normal.
A slight unease settled in his stomach. There was something unnerving about an object defying physics so casually.
But at that moment, Lucas needed information more than he needed to question the supernatural.
Without hesitation, he unfolded the letter.
Inside the tiny envelope was an even smaller piece of paper. The moment Lucas held it between his fingers, it lit up with a white glow, then suddenly expanded to the size of a standard sheet of paper.
Startled, he instinctively pulled his hands back but quickly realized that the transformation had stopped. The newly enlarged sheet was now covered in strange words written in a language he had never seen before.
Logically, he shouldn't have been able to read any of it.
And yet…
The words made perfect sense to him.
Hello, good soul from another world,
I imagine you must be confused by what has happened to you. I have written this letter in the hope that it will clarify most of your doubts.
I, who am writing this letter, am Alberia Elenlora, queen of the largest elven kingdom on this continent and the original owner of the body you are currently occupying.
First of all, I regret to inform you that if you are reading this letter, it means that you have died in your world. Your soul was taken by Goddess Elfidora, the deity we elves worship as our creator and protector, before you could pass on to the afterlife. She placed you in my body, while my own soul was taken to her paradise, where I will remain with her forever.
To explain why this has happened, I must tell you of a tragic event—one that, if you are reading this letter on the same day you arrived in this body, took place exactly one year ago.
An enormous beast, created by Macchinonio, the god of technology, alchemy, and science, the Divine Chimera named Artema. After rebelling against its creator, killing him, and laying waste to numerous kingdoms, it eventually reached my homeland.
My sister and I fought desperately to protect our people, but even our combined strength was not enough to stop it. In the end, I realized there was only one way to seal the beast away—I made a pact with Goddess Elfidora.
She agreed to grant me the power to seal Artema, but in return, she demanded my soul as payment. She gave me one year to prepare, after which I would be taken to her paradise.
However, Goddess Elfidora still cares for our people and knew that my sudden absence would throw the kingdom into turmoil. So, as part of our agreement, she decreed that a good soul from another world, one who died young, would take my place—a soul that would inhabit my body and continue my reign in my stead.
That soul is you.
To the one now inhabiting my body—I am truly sorry for having dragged you into the burdens of my kingdom. However, I hope you can see this not as a curse, but as a second life.
I do not expect you to accept this situation immediately, but in time, I hope you will come to see this body as your own.
The only ones who know the truth—who are aware that you are not me—are my younger sister, Aislyra, my mother, and my personal maid, Katerina. Do not worry, I understand that the role of a queen is not an easy one, but they will guide you. They will teach you everything you need to know and answer any questions you may have about my life and this world.
If you are reading this on your first morning in my body, then I have instructed my sister not to disturb you until you have had the entire morning to process what has happened.
Of course, if you feel ready, you may leave the room whenever you wish. You will likely find my sister waiting for you outside… though I must warn you, she can be quite intense, so I suggest you prepare yourself.
With that, I entrust my kingdom and my body to you.
I wish you good fortune, dear soul from another world.
—Alberia Elenlora
Lucas stood frozen, his new, delicate hands gripping the letter tightly.
"So… I really did die…" he whispered to himself, his voice hollow.
A weight settled in his chest—one that had nothing to do with his current body.
Even though he had already suspected as much, seeing it written so plainly shattered any lingering hope.
He was dead.
His old life, his old body, everything he had known—gone.
Lucas swallowed hard. Normally, he would have struggled to believe something so absurd, but with the overwhelming evidence staring him in the face—his reflection, his voice, the very room he stood in—there was no room for doubt.
This was real.
And there was no going back.
Lucas slowly returned to the bed and lay on his back, his gaze fixed on the canopy of the four-poster bed as he tried to process everything that had happened.
'Every now and then, after watching some isekai anime with Marco, I'd imagine getting transported to another world—becoming the hero who defeats the demon king and saves the world. But I never thought it would actually happen. And I definitely never imagined I'd be reincarnated as a queen… an elven queen, no less. I even changed gender!'
A weary sigh escaped his lips as he let the reality of his situation sink in.
'On top of that, I have no idea how to run a kingdom. Let alone an elven one…'
But then, his thoughts shifted.
'Still… I died. And this queen named Alberia gave me a second chance. She sacrificed her life to save her people—probably thousands, if not millions, of innocent lives. That's not something just anyone could do. And yet, despite all that, she entrusted her kingdom to a total stranger. She put her faith in her goddess, her sister, her mother… and in me.
'The only thing she knew about me was that I was a 'good soul.' And who am I to betray that trust?'
With that thought, a newfound resolve settled in his chest.
Lucas couldn't afford to sit around forever. If Alberia's sister and the others were waiting for him, it was time to face them and figure out what came next.
But before he could act, the canopy above him turned pitch black.
His eyes widened in alarm as, seemingly out of nowhere, a masked man dressed in black came plummeting down toward him—a blood-red dagger clutched tightly in his hand.
A killer.
Lucas barely had time to react. With pure instinct, he rolled off the bed, hitting the floor hard as the blade plunged into the mattress where he had just been lying.
'An assassin?!'
His mind raced.
'How did he even get in here? I didn't sense anything until just now!'
The assassin, realizing his surprise attack had failed, wasted no time. With a swift motion, he lunged forward, dagger poised to strike again.
Lucas's new body reacted before he could even think, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to see the incoming strike with unnatural clarity.
But seeing and dodging were two very different things.
He understood what was about to happen, but his movements were sluggish and unfamiliar. Alberia's body might have been capable of avoiding the attack, but he was not Alberia.
Lucas's eyes widened as the blade rushed toward his chest—
And then—
Schling!
In the blink of an eye, a massive broadsword cleaved through the air, severing the assassin's hand before the blade could reach its mark.
Lucas barely had time to register what had happened before a silver-haired girl stepped between him and his attacker, her sword still raised.
The assassin instantly leapt backward, his severed wrist dripping blood onto the floor.
"Bastard," the girl growled, her voice thick with anger and disgust. "How dare you make me break the last promise I made to my sister?!"
Lucas stared up at her in shock.
She had long, flowing silver hair and piercing blue eyes so cold they looked capable of freezing the assassin in place. She wore light silver armor over a form-fitting ocean-blue bodysuit, and even with only a glance, Lucas could tell—she was strong.
His breath caught.
He immediately realized who she was.
She was Alberia's younger sister—the one mentioned in the letter.
His gaze flicked toward the door—or what was left of it. Instead of being opened normally, the entrance had been completely obliterated.
'Ah. I'm beginning to understand why Alberia called her 'intense'.'
The assassin, still eerily silent, glanced down at his severed arm. Lucas noticed that the wound didn't just bleed—it was covered in ice, the flesh blackened as if burned by frostbite.
Before anyone could move, the floor behind him turned pitch-black, shifting into what looked like a swirling void.
"I won't let you escape!" Aislyra roared, her broadsword swinging forward in an attempt to smash him with the blunt side—but it was too late.
The assassin leapt backward into the dark void, his body vanishing in an instant.
The room fell into silence, broken only by Aislyra's frustrated scoff.
"Tch. Space magic."
She lowered her sword, turning back toward Jack and extending a hand toward him.
"Hey. You okay? That scoundrel didn't hurt my sister's body, did he?"
Lucas hesitated only a second before grasping her hand. Her grip was firm, steady.
"I'm fine," he assured her as she helped him to his feet.
Alisia gave him a quick once-over, as if double-checking for injuries. When she saw that he was unharmed, she let out a small sigh of relief. But then, her eyes shifted to the bed—more specifically, to the letter still lying on it.
"I see you've already read the letter my sister left for you," she remarked. "That makes things easier. But since I don't know exactly what she told you about me, let's do this properly."
She straightened, placing a hand on her chest in formal introduction.
"I am Aislyra Elenlora, sister of Alberia Elenlora and her personal bodyguard."
Her expression hardened.
"And from this moment on—
I am your personal bodyguard, as well."