Under Lady Selarin's guidance, she gradually began to unravel the truth of the world she was in.
This wasn't just a typical medieval setting like most isekai stories, it was an anachronistic world called Rolavia.
Anachronistic, meaning time itself was inconsistent here: people, objects, and places originated from entirely different eras.
Simply put, the nations of this world were wildly unequal in every sense.
Rolavia had once been a dying world, until the practice of summoning beings from other realms was introduced and with it, a mysterious entity known as Deus Ex Machina appeared. A mysterious entity who promised salvation, order, and the perfect utopia.
And somehow, what they got instead... was a self-insert free-for-all.
Protagonists. Regressors. System users. Overachievers with emotional damage and a love of monologues. It was a buffet of chaos wrapped in plot armor.
The world was supposed to be saved.
Instead, it became fanfiction on fire.
Everyone was hellbent on bending Rolavia to their own "unique" vision of justice, destiny, or whatever their third eye told them that morning.
The demonic faction stood in fierce opposition to Eirandal, the Kingdom of Echoed Time.
Ever since some regressor rewrote the kingdom's history like a stubborn Wikipedia editor, Eirandal soared ahead in magical law and policy.
Meanwhile, the demons were stuck in their villain arc, clinging to traditions. Stubborn, prideful, and falling behind fast.
What a time to be immortal, Liora thought dryly.
Under Selarin's teaching, Liora grew stronger, wiser... and significantly more allergic to nonsense.
She avoided the spotlight like it was cursed. Which, honestly, it probably was.
From the cozy shadows of the estate, she bore witness to the grand parade of cringe.
There was the infamous "Chosen One," who made his entrance by dramatically falling off a horse. Of course. What was destiny without a little public humiliation?
He leapt up, wind-kissed hair in slow motion, eyes burning with purpose. "I am the savior this world deserves!" he cried.
A chicken clucked. The villagers clapped. Liora gagged.
Next came the Brooding Anti-Hero, wrapped in a cloak so dark it threatened to sue the sun for emotional distress. He sat in every tavern corner, staring into the void like it owed him money.
His dramatic silences were so painfully long the innkeeper started knitting between orders.
Liora watched. Liora judged.
Then there were the system users. Loud, excitable, glitchy.
They'd charge into town screaming about EXP, stats, and God-tier titles, only to set fire to their own boots with a spell called something like "Heaven's Atomic Meteor Vortex." Which, frankly, seemed like overkill for a chicken coop.
The townsfolk complained. Liora moved to another window.
She never intervened. Never swooped in. No flashy saves. No big speeches.
She was a whisper in the walls, a shadow behind the shelves, the single sane thread in a world unraveling at the seams.
And she planned to keep it that way.
One day, she was just out shopping for desserts one peaceful morning until a new protagonist arrived.
This time, it wasn't a human, but a half-demon. And oh, she could feel the power radiating off him like a bad decision waiting to happen.
Within minutes, several houses were reduced to rubble, casualties of yet another over-the-top fight scene. Her system issued a calm, robotic warning to evacuate immediately.
Liora ducked behind a cart of overripe peaches, internally screaming.
"I JUST WANTED TO ENJOY MY CAKE!"
Things were getting out of hand.
The world was constantly on the edge of war or undergoing some grand transformation, with everyone scrambling to adopt the latest set of ideals.
She'd heard tales of a wandering merchant introducing "modern economics" like he invented currency, an underdog noble manipulating history with suspiciously specific foreknowledge, and an overpowered swordsman in another nation whose plot armor could probably deflect logic itself.
And then, of course, there was the emperor, who had apparently bred half the continent thanks to something called the Lust System.
Ideal world?! What ideal world is Deus Ex Machina even talking about?!
Apparently, Deus Ex Machina dreamed of a flawless utopia, one with no flaws, no suffering, no injustice.
Which, in practice, meant everyone was endlessly running on a hamster wheel of "improvement." A world where everyone could live freely, feel secure, and meet their so-called "good destinies."
Yeah. Total bullshit.
Liora stumbled through the estate door, panting heavily and drenched in sweat, clutching a paper bag full of half-squished desserts like it was sacred treasure.
"That was… something…" she wheezed.
At the very least, all that running led her back to the library and to her mistress.
There, amidst the towering shelves and endless scrolls, she found a quiet love for learning, even in the complexities of Formancy.
Hundreds of years had passed. Selarin had truly aged, her once-radiant beauty now traced with wrinkles, her voice softer, weaker.
They sat together in the library one quiet night, gazing up at the stars through the arched windows.
"Dear," Selarin suddenly spoke.
"Yes, mistress?..."
"It's been hundreds of years now… When I'm gone, take care of my granddaughter. Don't let her become like the rest."
Liora had been fortunate to have a master like Selarin.
Human or not, the old woman was more human than most.
From Formancy to laws, philosophies, and every subject this world had to offer, Selarin passed them all on to Liora.
In return, Liora quietly shared her own knowledge, always from the shadows.
A few days later, Selarin passed away.
"Master…" she whispered, standing quietly in the doorway, eyes fixed on Selarin's lifeless body resting in her bed.
It had been eight hundred seventy-eight years since they first met.
In all those centuries, they never sought power, glory, or fame, only knowledge, companionship, and the steady pursuit of understanding.
⬧︎[] SYSTEM NOTIFICATION []
⬧︎[] You have gained +1 EXP. []
⬧︎[] Total EXP Accumulated: 245,280 []
⬧︎[] Current Level: 57 []
⬧︎[] After centuries of maintaining your low profile… []
⬧︎[] [TITLE UNLOCKED]: Extra []
⬧︎[]↳ You are now one rank above Background Extra. Congratulations! You still remain blissfully irrelevant. []
⬧︎[] EXP gain is now multiplied by 2 for every year you remain unnoticed. []
⬧︎[] Formancy Ranking: Rank C []