Distorting And Restarting Life From Zero In Another World.

11 - This Kingdom Certainly Isn't In Good Hands.

Any art that appears in this story isn't and will never be mine!

Writing style:

Y/N = {Your name}

L/N = {Surname or middle name}

E/C = {Eye color}

H/C = {Hair color}

Format:

"[Y/N]: No way!" For dialogues.

"As the gently breeze of the wind pass..." For general occurrences.

"Even after that..." For inner thoughts.

"Al SHAMAK!" For special moments.

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As Felt entered the grand hall, the regal atmosphere seemed to clash with her very presence. She stuck out like a sore thumb, her usual tomboyish demeanor unyielding even in the finely tailored dress she now wore. Her expression was anything but pleased as she locked eyes with Reinhard, the Sword Saint who had brought her here in such a manner. Her lips curled into a sweet smile, but that was only the calm before the storm.

In a sudden movement, Felt marched over to Reinhard, her face a mix of indignation and frustration.

[Felt]: "Reinhard!"

She snapped, not even bothering to keep her voice down. The nobles and onlookers turned their heads, curious as to what she was about to do. Her small figure might not have seemed intimidating, but anyone who knew Felt knew she was a firecracker.

Before Reinhard could even offer a greeting, Felt swung her leg at him, aiming a swift kick right at his face.

[Felt]: "I told you I didn't want to wear this stupid princess dress!"

She barked mid-kick, her frustration spilling out.

Reinhard, ever composed, smoothly dodged the attack with an almost effortless grace, though a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. His hands were raised in a defensive, placating gesture.

[Reinhard]: "Felt-sama, I assure you, this attire is fitting for your position as a royal candidate!"

He explained, his voice calm as always. But internally, he was preparing for another wave of attacks.

Felt, not satisfied with his answer, turned her scowl into an exaggerated huff, crossing her arms in protest. Before Reinhard could attempt another explanation, her attention shifted to a familiar duo standing nearby.

[Felt]: "Subaru! Nii-san!"

Felt's voice rang out as she spotted them. Her mood seemed to lift for a brief moment as she made a beeline for them, her steps quick and purposeful. Subaru, ever the optimist, smiled brightly, preparing to greet her, only to be greeted by a sharp "thud" as Felt's foot collided with his abdomen.

[Subaru]: "Oof!"

Subaru wheezed, doubling over as the force of the kick left him winded.

[Subaru]: "Why is it always me?!"

He groaned in frustration, clutching his stomach as he tried to regain his composure.

Felt smirked, her arms now resting on her hips as she looked down at Subaru with a satisfied grin.

[Felt]: "Because you're an easy target, duh."

She teased, clearly enjoying Subaru's suffering.

Y/N, standing beside Subaru, couldn't help but chuckle at the scene. Felt's energy was infectious, even if her methods were... unconventional.