The tremors beneath their feet continued, a stark reminder that the danger in Aetheria was far from over. The air, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the subtle, high-pitched hum of Aether technology, was exactly as Finn had always imagined from Alex’s streams—except now it clawed at his senses with a visceral intensity. A cold wave of fear washed over Finn; he understood that his theoretical knowledge, gleaned from countless hours of gameplay, was a pathetic shield against the harsh realities of this world.

  Fort Bastion’s battlefield was a distorted mirror image of "Lumina's Defense," a game he'd watched Alex play countless times. Yet, the chill that ran down Finn's spine was far from digital. It was the cold dread of a live battle, the real possibility of death. The crown felt heavier than he expected, pressing into his temples, the armor both clumsy and oddly familiar, as if a phantom muscle memory stirred within him. He’d studied strategy, leadership – endless books and lectures – but nothing prepared him for this. He wasn't interviewing for a job anymore; he was Prince Finn, thrust into a reality he didn't understand. "Tell me about a time you had to adapt to an unexpected obstacle" echoed in his head, the interview line now a terrifying question with teeth...a challenge far beyond anything on his resume

  Rylan's voice cut through his swirling thoughts, direct and urgent. "The wall has fallen. Crawlers are coming through the breaches. Stalkers are killing our soldiers," he stated, his tone clipped. “It’s time for you to lead, Your Highness. What are your orders, Prince Finn?” His gaze, though respectful, demanded leadership

  Finn, still reeling from the sensory overload, looked at the screen that had materialized before him. It was as if the game had warped itself to fit him, displaying his stats under the name 'Finn' but overlaying the skills of Prince Capisco, blurring the line between reality and interface. The HUD shimmered in his vision, showing information with stark clarity, a complex system adapting to his perception, offering him a precarious lifeline in the chaos.

  Realizing he was somehow intrinsically linked to the system, Finn began to analyze how it worked, desperately searching for an edge. The information changed before his eyes, adjusting with unnerving accuracy to his immediate needs. His eyes widened at the display; his stats were abysmal, especially compared to the battle-hardened warrior beside him.

  He'd envisioned leading a glorious charge, sword raised high, inspiring his troops to victory. Instead, Finn was relying on instinct, praying his feet wouldn't betray him, that he wouldn't freeze in terror. No isekai superpowers awaited this weak prince – just a crushing lack of experience and the gnawing fear of failure.

  Finn Park (The Reluctant Prince) - 1★

  ? Level: 1

  ? HP: 80/80

  ? Skills: None

  ? Weapon: Ceremonial Royal Dagger

  ? Aether Capacity: 10/10

  ? Description: A prince who didn't want to be a prince. He’s read a ton of business books and attended countless workshops, but sadly, none of that translates to real-world skills. Imagine a prince who can deliver a lecture on "team synergy" but couldn't swing a sword to save his life. Right now, he's very confused and probably wishing for a handbook on "How to Survive a War."

  Finn's eyes widened at the stats. "No skills? Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, feeling a cold dread settle in his stomach. His thoughts raced, fueled by a potent cocktail of indignation, disbelief, and growing panic.

  As the crushing reality of his situation truly sank in, Finn took a shaky breath and tried to steady his racing thoughts. "I’ve been sucked into the game," he whispered to himself, his mind frantically grasping at the implications. "If I die here, then chances are it’s for real… and yet… These are the stats I'm stuck with?" He couldn't believe how utterly unprepared he was. All those business books and workshops had done precisely nothing to equip him for swinging a sword or fighting monsters.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Determined to make the best of his utterly absurd situation, Finn's mind started working, cataloging information, searching for the best possible strategies, clinging to the hope that his knowledge wasn't entirely useless. “Alright,” he declared, his voice stronger than he felt, striving for a confident tone. “Let’s show them a prince of the Light always adapts and finds a solution. If things don’t work, you find another one.” Deep down, however, he couldn't help but desperately wish for a handbook titled "How to Survive a War When You're an Unskilled HR Graduate."

  Rylan’s voice cut in sharply, snapping Finn back to the immediate present. "Finn! We don’t have time for this. I need you focused on the immediate dangers." A section of the shimmering screen flashed, highlighting the approaching threats. "More Stalkers," Finn said, his mind immediately attempting to quantify the enemy, noting their type and approximate numbers, while simultaneously trying to recall any relevant defense strategies from his brother's gameplay videos. "Three of them, closing fast."

  Rylan’s expression tightened imperceptibly, his hand almost crushing the hilt of his sword, a brief flicker of… something… darting through his eyes – perhaps frustration, perhaps a hint of fear, quickly masked by a mask of grim resolve.

  HUD: Rylan activated [Unyielding Guardian].

  HUD: Rylan receives a temporary buff [Defense Up ↑].

  HUD: You’ve receive a temporary buff for being near his side [Strength ↑].

  A powerful golden aura rippled outwards from Rylan, a subtle but unmistakable display of power and protection, further emphasizing the vast gulf between their capabilities. He looked at Finn with focused eyes, his expression neutral, “I’ll hold them off; it is my duty to protect you. Get to a safer place. You have to be safe," he said, his voice firm yet hurried, each word delivered with practiced authority. He steered Finn down the steps, his sword and shield already in a ready position, a bulwark against the approaching threat. “Go, Your Highness! I'll give you some time to strategize!”

  Finn paused at the bottom of the steps, his fingers touching the ornate hilt of his dagger—a pretty trinket that probably wouldn't do much damage against those creatures, he brutally analyzed. A sense of utter hopelessness tried to engulf him, but he forced it back with a sharp breath, desperately grasping for any possible use for such an impractical weapon. Even a useless weapon can have a hidden purpose, he thought, his mind racing to find a purpose for the ceremonial dagger beyond mere decoration.

  Wait a second… Isn’t this the tutorial level where everyone was meant to die, and only Rylan survived? If that’s true...then… Am I going to die as well? The realization struck him like a physical blow.

  However, Finn desperately clung to the memory of Alex's stunning victory at this level, the one time he played and defied all expectations. In that single playthrough, he achieved a unique outcome that showcased his tactical ingenuity. He wasn't able to save the prince and his army, but he managed to keep some heroes alive longer than expected, a fact that now filled Finn with a flicker of hope

  Could he somehow use his strategic planning and business skills to survive this? Would his understanding of Alex's gameplay even help? Would these skills and insights be enough to somehow turn the seemingly insurmountable odds in their favor? His business-leadership mindset was already frantically working, evaluating possibilities, trying to find a way to make his thoroughly useless skills even remotely applicable to this nightmare.

  "Go!" Rylan yelled, his voice cracking with urgency, a harsh counterpoint to Finn's panicked thoughts, as he physically pushed Finn towards the courtyard doorway. "Get to safety, Your Highness! I'll hold them off, and you can plan your next move once you're safe!" Rylan’s sword flashed, a silver arc in the dim light of the fort bastian, deflecting a blow from an oncoming Mantis Stalker, its chitinous armor a menacing wall of black.

  Rylan gestured towards a heavy oak door at the far side of the courtyard. "Head through there, Your Highness. Your team is waiting for you inside," Rylan said, gesturing further into the courtyard. "I'll join you shortly, after I've confirmed nothing has followed us through."

  Finn could only hope the team Rylan mentioned was actually there. Not much of a plan, but it’s all I've got, he thought, with the little information he had. He was just an unemployed HR graduate, not a warrior, nor prince, nor leader. All he wanted was a career. Cruel fate had other plans. He was now running for his life. Talk about a hostile work environment. Before him is a large door. He took a breath, gripped the handle... and prayed this was all just a nightmare. Resume, meet shredder.