The Shifted Throne (Overlord)

Chapter 3: The Realization of Fate

Edmund sat at the desk, his fingers trembling as they flipped through the yellowed pages of the diary. Now that he knew the body he inhabited belonged to "Edmund Sylvius Veyland," the fourth son of the late king of Veyland, he couldn't help but feel an odd connection to the life that had once been lived in it. It felt like wearing someone else's skin—both foreign and familiar at the same time.

His eyes scanned each word carefully, absorbing the details of this man's life, his responsibilities, and his burdens. The more he read, the more the weight of the situation pressed down on him. Edmund's father, the king, had passed away a month ago. And tragically, all three of his older brothers had been killed in action during an attack by the Beastmen, a powerful race of humanoid animal people that seemed to have come from a distant land. Edmund paused as he read this—his mind quickly raced back to the memories of the anime he had once watched. Beastmen. Humanoid animals. It was all too familiar. It was just like the creatures he had seen in the shows he had loved in his teen years.

"This is really happening, huh?" Edmund muttered to himself, trying to keep the panic from setting in. He had thought it was impossible—an isekai situation—but here he was, living the life of a prince in a fantasy world. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside. There were too many details to digest, and he had no time to get lost in confusion.

He kept reading.

The diary revealed that Edmund had two older sisters—women with power and influence—and one younger sister, whom the previous owner of this body seemed to care deeply for. The more he read, the clearer it became that Edmund's life was far from easy. He had been preparing to inherit a throne in a kingdom that was on the brink of collapse.

Then, one entry caught his eye, and his heart skipped a beat.

It mentioned the Dragonic Kingdom, a powerful and ancient kingdom that ruled over vast lands of dragons. Then there was the Slane Theocracy, a place that enslaved people under the guise of religious order. Both names seemed to spark something deep within him—a familiar, unsettling sensation. His mind raced.

Wait a minute...

Edmund paused. He tried to remember where he had heard those names before. It took him a full two minutes, the words echoing in his head as he scrambled to recall any details. His mind flashed back to his younger days, when he had spent countless hours watching the anime Overlord, a show set in a world filled with dragons, beastmen, powerful kingdoms, and magical beings.

The Dragonic Kingdom. The Slane Theocracy.

Those were names of nations from Overlord, weren't they?

His breath hitched in his throat. Panic washed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in sheer terror. He had read it all wrong. This wasn't just any fantasy world—this was a world that mirrored the one he had seen on TV, a world of ruthless politics, terrifying monsters, and unspeakable danger. Edmund's mind spun in a spiral of dread. Was he in the same world? Were the same factions and conflicts playing out here, just like the anime he had watched so many years ago?

He leaned back in the chair, his hand clutching the edges of the desk for support as his breathing quickened. His stomach churned. He wasn't just a random person in a new world—he was a prince of a crumbling kingdom, about to inherit a throne in a time of utter chaos.

After twenty minutes of panic, Edmund managed to steady his breath. He forced himself to calm down, even though every fiber of his being screamed to run, to escape from this nightmare.

"Focus," he muttered to himself. "You can't lose it now."

He took another deep breath, his mind slowly piecing together his next steps. According to the diary, he was to be crowned king by noon today. The sun was rising outside the window, casting a soft, golden light into the room. He could feel the pressure of time weighing on him.

"Did the previous prince die from stress?" he wondered aloud. "Was he crushed by the weight of all this... doom?"

The thought struck him cold. If Edmund, the previous owner of this body, had been as weak and overwhelmed as the diary suggested, perhaps it had been too much for him to bear. Maybe it was stress, or some illness brought on by fear and anxiety, that had claimed him. Or worse... maybe it was the overwhelming realization that his kingdom was on the verge of collapse, and he had no idea how to stop it.

He took another deep breath, forcing himself to push those dark thoughts aside. He had to focus. The best course of action was to continue reading the diary. It was the only source of information he had, and if he was going to convince everyone that he was Edmund Sylvius Veyland—the real Edmund, not some stranger who had taken over his body—he needed to know everything about his previous life. He couldn't afford any slip-ups, any signs of weakness. Not when everything was on the line.

His hands trembling slightly, Edmund flipped to the next page, his eyes scanning the words with an almost obsessive focus. The diary was long, and he was determined to read every last word before anyone came to disturb him. There were still so many questions—so many unknowns.

But for now, the answers were hidden in these pages, and he wasn't about to let them slip through his fingers.

End of chap.