[ New Mission: Stop your mothers from raising you into an unstoppable tyrant before the kingdom rebels. ]
…Yeah, I was so screwed.
I lay there, swaddled in the softest silk money could buy, staring up at two of the most terrifying individuals I had ever seen in my two lifetis. My mothers were still gazing at with expressions of pure, unfiltered adoration, as if I was so sort of divine blessing from the heavens instead of a helpless, screaming, slightly damp infant.
One of the nurses was still passed out in the corner. The doctor was muttering prayers. A mage had fainted. The room reeked of burned fabric and existential dread.
And ? I had questions.
System. What the hell is happening?
[ Ah! I was waiting for you to ask! Welco to your new world, Host! ]
Yeah, yeah, welco party later. Explain. Now.
[ Of course! You have reincarnated into the world of Velmoria, a powerful empire ruled by the strongest beings in existence your mothers. ]
Figures.
[ Velmoria has stood unchallenged for over a century, conquering all who oppose it with sheer military might and overwhelming force. Your mothers, Empress Verania of the Crimson Fla and Empress Sylvithra of the Eternal Frost, are the most feared rulers in history. ]
I had already gathered that much. Verania's arms alone could probably snap a dragon in half, and Sylvithra looked like the kind of woman who would declare war over an inconvenient breeze.
[ Unfortunately, their ruling style has led to… unrest. ]
You an rebellion?
[ Oh, no! Not yet! But give it five years. Maybe ten if you're lucky. ]
Fantastic.
[ Your mission is to ensure your mothers do not push the kingdom into an all-out war against itself. ]
How am I supposed to do that when I can't even hold my own head up?
[ Through strategic influence, subtle manipulation, and, if all else fails, excessive cuteness. ]
…I was so dood.
But before I could keep panicking, my vision suddenly glowed with golden light, and floating numbers appeared before my eyes.
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
Na: Elyzara Thorne
Race: Highborn Tyrant (?)
Title: Imperial Heir of Velmoria
Level: 1
HP: 100/100
MP: ???
Strength: 0.5
Agility: 0.3
Intelligence: 15 (Newborn Genius)
Charisma: 20 (Adored Tyrant Baby)
Luck: -10 (Cursed Fate)
I blinked.
System, what the hell is this?
[ This is your status window! You may recognize it from your past life's video gas! ]
That's not what I was asking, but fine. More importantly—
WHY IS MY LUCK NEGATIVE TEN?!
[ Ah, yes! Your luck is exceptionally cursed! ]
No kidding!
[ Your unfortunate demise, your reincarnation into a tyrant family, and your near-guaranteed future of catastrophic failure are all proof of this! ]
…Thanks for the vote of confidence, System.
[ Anyti! ]
I was about to complain more, but I was suddenly lifted into the air, and the terrifying sensation of flying baby mode took over.
Verania held up with one strong hand, beaming like she had just won a battle.
"The kingdom must know! Our heir is born!" she declared.
Oh. Oh no.
"Summon the Grand Herald! Let the trumpets sing of her arrival! The world must tremble in awe!"
Oh no.
Sylvithra, still calm, placed a cold hand on Verania's shoulder.
"Beloved. It is three in the morning."
Verania blinked. "And?"
"The people are sleeping."
"They should wake up to the news that their ruler has arrived."
"The last ti you woke them up for sothing unnecessary, the farrs tried to drown themselves in the river."
"It was a very important war victory."
"It was an arm-wrestling match."
"…It was against a minotaur."
Sylvithra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Verania."
Verania pouted. A literal warlord pouted. "Fine. We will wait until sunrise."
I let out a sigh of relief.
Then Verania grinned.
"But at sunrise, I want fireworks."
A doctor choked on air.
Sylvithra gave her a look. "No."
Verania pouted harder. "Why?"
"You set the city on fire last ti."
"…Only a small fire."
"No fireworks."
"Fine," Verania muttered, crossing her arms like a child. "Then I shall simply gather the people and declare our heir's greatness from the balcony."
Oh gods. She was serious.
[ New Mission: Survive being publicly declared as an infant warlord. ]
I groaned internally. I wasn't even a day old and I was already a propaganda piece.
The worst part? The servants, the doctors, the entire palace staff they were terrified to say no to her. I saw their panicked glances, their silent prayers to whatever gods they worshipped, and I knew, deep in my newborn soul, that nobody was going to stop her.
Nobody… except .
I was the only one who could stop these two absolute naces.
I, a weak, squishy, helpless baby, was the last line of defense between this empire and complete war-driven destruction.
I took a deep breath.
Okay. Fine.
If this was my mission… then I was going to do it right.
Step one: Make sure my tyrant mothers didn't ruin everything before I even learned how to walk.
I had no idea how, but I was going to find a way.
I had to.
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