The Shifted Throne (Overlord)

Chapter 2: A Prince in Another World

The man—who once was a woman, or so he thought—sat at the edge of the bed, his mind spinning with the gravity of his situation. His body trembled slightly as he tried to reconcile the overwhelming sense of confusion, anxiety, and dread. For the last twenty minutes, he had been doing nothing but thinking, attempting to piece together some kind of rational explanation for what had happened. But nothing made sense.

First, he ruled out the possibility that this was a dream. He could feel the cool sheets beneath him, the weight of his limbs, and the unsettling way his body moved—a body that felt wrong. His hands were larger, his fingers longer, and his skin was paler than he remembered. There was no trace of the familiar curves or shape he had once known. And then there was the undeniable reality of the pain in his chest, a sharp pang of unfamiliarity that echoed through his new body every time he breathed. This was real. He could feel everything.

The second conclusion was that he hadn't been kidnapped, at least not in the way he imagined. If someone had abducted him, he would have been restrained, locked away somewhere dark, but here he was in a grand chamber, draped in heavy silks and surrounded by the kind of luxury he had never experienced in his previous life. No, this wasn't a kidnapping—it couldn't be.

The only conclusion left was one that, frankly, terrified him.

"I've been... transfigured?" he muttered to himself in disbelief. He let out a low laugh, half-mad. "Is this seriously happening? Am I in some kind of... isekai?" His voice faltered at the word. The very idea seemed stupid. Just like the isekai anime he used to binge-watch as a teenager—he had laughed at those stories back then, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. He could almost hear the voice of his younger self: "Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen."

And yet, here he was. In a completely foreign world, with no explanation for how or why. No way to go back. And no way to escape this new, terrifying reality.

He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to focus. The panic was threatening to consume him again. He couldn't allow himself to lose control. He needed to figure out his next move. After all, if this was an isekai situation, the best course of action was simple: don't let anyone know that you aren't the person who belongs in this body.

The thought sent a chill down his spine. A deep, icy fear wrapped itself around his heart. "Did I...?" he whispered to himself. "Did I kill the previous owner of this body? Was she... Was she already dead when I got here?" His mind raced, each thought faster than the last. What if his soul had somehow displaced hers? What if he had taken over a life that was already gone, leaving the former owner to be lost forever in the void?

For five long minutes, he sat frozen, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of his thoughts. He pressed his palms into his eyes, forcing himself to think logically. He couldn't get lost in panic. He needed to understand what had happened, and what to do next.

Standing up from the bed, he walked slowly across the room, each step deliberate. The room was grand, fit for royalty—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the furniture, though aged, was clearly made with the finest craftsmanship. The ceiling above him was painted in intricate designs, showing scenes of long-forgotten battles and faded gods.

As he wandered around, his mind still reeling, he began to search for any clues that might explain where he was. Or, if this was an isekai situation, whether this world was somehow tied to one of the animes he used to watch. Could this be a place where dragons roamed freely, or where elves wielded magic like it was second nature? Was this his new reality?

He almost didn't notice it at first. It was a simple thing—nothing extraordinary—just a small, leather-bound notebook tucked away in a drawer of the single desk at the far side of the room. But something compelled him to open it.

His hands were shaking as he slid the notebook out of its resting place. He flipped it open, unsure of what he would find. The pages were filled with strange, flowing symbols—letters that looked unlike anything he had ever seen. Ancient, almost archaic, in their form. But then a strange sensation washed over him, like a muscle memory that wasn't his own. Without thinking, his fingers moved, flipping through the pages and reading the words as if he had seen them a thousand times before.

He understood them.

It wasn't possible. There was no way he should be able to read this, not in his original life. But here, in this strange new world, the words flowed easily in his mind, as if his brain had already been taught this language long ago. It was as though the body he had inhabited retained memories—muscle memory, perhaps—that were imprinted within it.

As he read the diary, his stomach twisted into knots. The words revealed something far worse than he could have imagined. This wasn't just the diary of any prince—it was the journal of a prince desperate to maintain control over a crumbling kingdom. The previous owner of this body had been facing a constant battle against enemies within and outside of the kingdom. Famine, corruption, and political intrigue were the backdrop of his daily life, with no clear way out.

But what truly sent a wave of dread through him was one entry that seemed to describe a growing madness—an obsession with retaining power at any cost, even if it meant making cruel, unethical decisions.

"Oh... shit," he whispered aloud, his voice trembling. His eyes darted back to the page, scanning the hastily written words as they seemed to blur in front of him. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to be a prince, let alone the future king of a failing kingdom.

The room seemed to grow colder as the weight of the realization hit him. He wasn't just some random person. He was a prince, about to inherit a kingdom on the brink of collapse.

But one thing was certain: Edmund Sylvius Veyland, whoever he was, had been living in a world filled with danger, deception, and chaos.

And now, it was his problem.

End of chap.