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Chapter 1 — The Novel That Should Have Been Burned

Arin had read many ridiculous novels in his life.

He had read stories where a girl was secretly the lost princess of an empire. He had read stories where a man woke up inside a game and somehow became stronger than the final boss within three chapters. He had even read one where the protagonist accidentally married a dragon.

But this one was different.

This one was insulting his intelligence.

Arin sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at his phone with a deep frown.

“Four?”

He scrolled upward.

Then downward.

Then upward again.

“Four men?”

The title of the novel was The Saintess and Her Four Destined Loves.

It had appeared in his recommendations several times. The cover had caught his attention: a beautiful saintess with golden hair stood in the center of an enormous garden, surrounded by four handsome men.

The crown prince.

The grand duke.

The empire's strongest holy knight.

And a mysterious mage.

Arin had expected a normal fantasy romance.

Instead, he had discovered a story in which every man who looked at the saintess for more than five seconds immediately became fascinated with her.

He shook his head.

“This is not realistic.”

He continued reading anyway.

The saintess, Elara, had supposedly been blessed by the Goddess at birth. Her presence could calm monsters, heal wounds, purify curses, and make flowers bloom.

Fine.

Arin could accept that.

It was fantasy.

What he couldn't accept was the way everyone around her behaved.

The crown prince had met her once.

Once.

She had helped an injured bird.

The next chapter had him thinking about her constantly.

The duke had seen her treating a servant kindly.

Suddenly, he had decided she was the only woman worthy of becoming duchess.

The holy knight had witnessed her praying.

He had apparently decided that protecting her was his life's purpose.

And then there was Lucien.

Arin stopped scrolling.

Lucien Valerius.

The mysterious imperial mage.

He was supposed to be the most difficult of the four.

Cold.

Proud.

Brilliant.

Almost impossible to approach.

He trusted no one and supposedly possessed enough magical power to destroy half the capital if he ever lost control.

Yet even he eventually fell in love with Elara.

Arin stared at the screen.

“Of course.”

He leaned back against the wall.

“Four men. One woman. No one has anything better to do.”

He continued reading.

The story had recently introduced another character.

Leon Valemont.

Arin's eyes narrowed.

Leon was a young nobleman from an ancient family.

Unlike the four male leads, he hated the saintess.

And Arin immediately liked him.

Leon had noticed something everyone else ignored.

The saintess's arrival had changed the behavior of powerful people.

The crown prince had begun neglecting political duties.

The duke had broken alliances for her.

The holy knight had ignored military orders.

Even Lucien had started spending more time around her.

Leon considered the situation suspicious.

Arin nodded.

“Finally. A sensible person.”

Then he reached the chapter where Leon confronted the saintess.

The dialogue was surprisingly reasonable.

“You arrived three months ago, yet the behavior of four powerful men has completely changed. Forgive me for being suspicious.”

The saintess looked hurt.

The readers loved her.

They hated Leon.

Arin frowned.

“Why are they angry at him? He's asking a perfectly reasonable question.”

Then came the next chapter.

Leon was accused of attempting to poison the saintess.

Arin's eyes widened.

“What?”

The evidence was weak.

Suspiciously weak.

Yet the four male leads believed Elara immediately.

Leon was imprisoned.

Arin continued reading.

The story became darker.

Leon lost his title.

His family abandoned him.

He was publicly condemned.

And finally, Lucien confronted him.

The chapter described Lucien walking into the prison.

Leon looked at him and laughed bitterly.

“You believe her?”

Lucien's expression was cold.

“You should have known better than to stand against her.”

Arin's eyebrows rose.

“Seriously?”

Lucien raised his hand.

Magic gathered.

Leon died.

Arin stared at his phone.

Silence filled the room.

Then he slowly said:

“This novel is garbage.”

He threw himself backward onto the bed.

“Why would anyone write this?”

He stared at the ceiling.

“If I were Leon, I would just leave the country.”

He sat up again.

“Actually, I'd leave the continent.”

He picked up his phone.

“And if four men were fighting over one saintess, I'd stay as far away from them as possible.”

He laughed.

“Especially Lucien.”

Those were the last words Arin remembered saying.

The lights flickered.

He frowned.

“What's happening?”

His phone screen suddenly went black.

The room became strangely cold.

Arin stood.

“Hello?”

No answer.

A ringing sound filled his ears.

Then the floor disappeared.

He fell.

There was no sensation of wind.

No ground.

No darkness.

Just an endless feeling of falling through somewhere that shouldn't exist.

Arin tried to scream.

Nothing came out.

Then everything stopped.

---

Someone was crying.

“Master!”

Arin heard the voice distantly.

“Please wake up!”

His head hurt.

He tried to move.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Master Leon!”

Arin's eyes opened.

A young woman was leaning over him.

She wore a black servant's dress with silver embroidery.

Her face was wet with tears.

“Thank goodness!”

Arin stared at her.

“Who are you?”

The servant froze.

“Master?”

Arin pushed himself upright.

The room was enormous.

Dark wooden furniture.

Golden decorations.

A fireplace.

Heavy curtains.

A bed large enough for four people.

None of it belonged to him.

He looked down.

His hands weren't his.

His fingers were longer.

His skin was paler.

His nails were neatly trimmed.

He slowly turned toward the mirror.

His stomach dropped.

A handsome young man stared back.

Long black hair.

Sharp grey eyes.

A beautiful but intimidating face.

Arin knew that face.

He had seen it in the novel's illustrations.

“No.”

The servant looked confused.

“Master?”

Arin touched his face.

The reflection copied him.

“No, no, no.”

He backed away.

The servant became frightened.

“Should I call the physician?”

“Wait.”

Arin looked at her.

“What is my name?”

She stared.

“Lord Leon Valemont.”

The world seemed to stop.

Arin sat down slowly.

Leon Valemont.

The character who hated the saintess.

The character who died.

The character he had just insulted.

He looked toward the ceiling.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The servant didn't understand.

“Master?”

Arin grabbed his hair.

“I actually said I could survive longer than him.”

He remembered the novel.

The saintess had arrived three months ago.

That meant the story had already begun.

And Leon's death was approaching.

He needed information.

“Tell me something.”

“Yes, Master?”

“Has the saintess arrived in the capital?”

The servant nodded.

“Saintess Elara arrived three months ago.”

Arin closed his eyes.

Exactly as expected.

He had no idea why this happened.

He had no idea how to return home.

But one thing was certain.

He wasn't going to die like Leon.

He would avoid the saintess.

He would avoid the four male leads.

He would avoid Lucien most of all.

He would stay inside his estate, mind his own business, and survive.

Simple.

At least, that was the plan.

Until a royal invitation arrived that afternoon.

The servant placed it on his desk.

Arin opened it.

His expression slowly changed.

It was an invitation to the palace.

The saintess was holding a grand reception.

Every important noble had been summoned.

Including Leon Valemont.

Arin stared at the invitation.

“No.”

The servant bowed.

“Master, refusing a direct royal invitation would be considered disrespectful.”

Arin closed his eyes.

Of course.

His first day in another world, and fate was already dragging him toward the woman he wanted to avoid.

He looked at the invitation again.

At the bottom was a list of honored guests.

His eyes stopped at one name.

Lucien Valerius.

Arin's stomach sank.

He remembered the scene from the novel.

The prison.

The cold expression.

The magic.

His death.

Arin folded the invitation.

“I am absolutely not dying.”

He looked at the servant.

“Prepare my clothes.”

She bowed.

“Yes, Master.”

Arin walked toward the window.

Outside, the capital stretched beneath the evening sky.

Somewhere in that city was the saintess.

Somewhere were the four men who would eventually fall in love with her.

And somewhere was Lucien.

The man who was supposed to kill him.

Arin took a slow breath.

“I'll change the story.”

He didn't know it yet.

But the story had already begun changing.

And the first person to notice would be the very man Arin was most desperate to avoid.

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