The muscle knight was the kind of gentleman who didn’t have “pervert” written on his face.

I was about to have the worst possible wake-up, but continuing this dream while being glared at by a group of armed handsome men was even worse. Getting cut would definitely hurt, but maybe with this fantastical sword it wouldn’t, and it’d probably be over in an instant anyway. Above all, this was a dream. Even if I got slashed, I wouldn’t die.

I gave a small nod and looked up at the black-haired young man. No matter how many times I looked, he was the exact type I could never get tired of, but I still didn’t want to watch the moment he killed me.

“Um, I have my eyes closed now, so… could you make it quick?”

I said that and shut my eyes.

But no matter how long I waited, nothing happened. I was troubled.

(Ugh… Is this the type where the second I open my eyes I get sliced in half? Scary, scary. If that’s the case, I’ll just stay like this until I wake up. …Wait, maybe my brain has been personifying my exam subjects? If so, my favorite quiet older-brother type is definitely Japanese. The calm muscle gentleman is math? English has to be the blond prince type!)

While thinking such ridiculous things, I heard a calm yet somehow bewildered voice.

“——Captain. The target is acting strange. Her appearance matches the wanted poster exactly, but she’s way too non-resistant.”

(Wanted poster?)

That sounded ominous. I instinctively opened my eyes. …Good, I didn’t get sliced. Relief for now.

But since there was still no sign of waking up, I was starting to get a little anxious.

(Hmm… Maybe this one’s a long-type dream. What a pain.)

Sometimes these dreams lasted as long as three full days. And during that time, the scene never changed. No matter how repetitive the days were, there was no fast-forward or skip—time passed exactly as experienced.

On the flip side, there were times when I hadn’t had the dream for days, yet only a few hours had passed inside it. The speed of time sometimes varied, but overall there had never been any huge discrepancies.

If this dream was going to be a long one, I wanted to grasp the situation accurately. Since this body had all five senses, I wanted to avoid pain or suffering with all my might.

I looked around. Everyone still had their swords drawn, but the earlier tension was gone; they were staring at me with somewhat bewildered expressions. I trembled.

(The pressure from a group of handsome guys is terrifying! Sorry, I’m over here in the normal group! Even in high school, I’ve decided to keep a respectful distance from the flashy popular crowd. Handsome men are best enjoyed through a screen. Very educational, thank you so much!)

I panicked a bit internally, but then looked up at the black-haired young man again and spoke.

“Um, excuse me. What’s this about a wanted poster? I should have been at the temple orphanage… When I came to, I was here, wearing clothes I don’t remember putting on, and on top of that I’m covered in blood and feel gross.”

“…Orphanage?”

The young man widened his eyes and spoke with faint surprise.

“I was just thinking this is a really weird dream, so could you all please go somewhere else? It’s scary.”

Swords were scary, but the pressure from handsome men was scary too. I just wanted to go back to the usual dream.

My desperate wish went unanswered as the most intimidating of them all—a muscle-bound handsome giant—stepped forward from behind the young man.

(Wow… So huge…)

His bronze hair glowed in the sunlight, and his body had to be at least two meters tall. Those overly sturdy shoulders looked like I could comfortably sit on them.

Probably late twenties to early thirties. Definitely not a teenager. The only teenagers allowed to have muscles this impressive were the post-apocalyptic overlords from old Showa manga.

On the chest of his black uniform was an insignia of crossed swords and a staff. The very picture of majestic dignity, the giant glanced at me once, then quietly ordered the young man.

“Lower your sword, Sieghart.”

“Yes, sir.”

The black-haired young man called Sieghart sheathed his sword. The threat in front of me disappeared, and I let out a sigh of relief. Apparently I’d been more stressed than I thought.

It would have been great if they all just vanished now, but unfortunately things never went that smoothly. The giant who had come before me knelt on the ground with movements that belied his size. Matching my eye level, he looked at me with deep green eyes that seemed to reflect the beauty of the forest.

“Pardon me, young lady. We are members of the Lujenda Kingdom’s Mage Knight Order. I am the captain, Isaac Livingston. Might I have your name?”

I was bewildered. Not just because the man who called himself Isaac was shockingly gentlemanly.

As far as I knew, there was no organization called the Mage Knight Order in the Lujenda Kingdom. The main military forces protecting the nation were, first, the Royal Guard Knight Order that protected the palace. Next, the twelve knight orders stationed at fortresses defending the borders. There were also private combat groups that took jobs for money. But any group calling itself a knight order should be officially funded.

There had never been a setting inconsistency like this in the dream before, so I felt a strange sense of wrongness.

That aside, I had just been asked my name, so deciding how to answer was the top priority—

(Naming myself Ogata Nagi with my super Japanese name feels wrong here. But if they call me Rio, it’s not actually my name, so I might not react properly. Well, it’s a dream anyway. Rio never had a family name either, so just the given name should be fine.)

I nodded once and answered.

“Nagi.”

“I see. Then, Miss Nagi. There are a few things I would like to ask you. It would help greatly if you answered honestly.”

I almost snorted.

(Miss!? Oh no, this guy is a real gentleman! The kind that doesn’t spell “pervert” on his face—a genuine gentleman!)

Trying not to tremble with excitement, I somehow managed to nod.

“Thank you. You said earlier that you were at a temple orphanage—which orphanage in which town would that be?”

“The Saint Paul Orphanage affiliated with the Ruberius Temple in the town of Nordahl, near the western border.”

Isaac looked shocked for a moment, then deeply furrowed his brow.

“…An orphan from Nordahl. How old are you, if I may ask?”

“Fifteen.”

She had been abandoned as a baby, so her exact age wasn’t known, but according to the orphanage records, Nagi and Rio were the same age.

Relieved that it was a simple question, I answered honestly—but for a while now, the black-clad handsome group had been acting strange. They all looked severely shaken. Even Isaac, who silenced them with a raised hand, now wore an extremely grim expression.

Wondering what was going on, I tilted my head. Sieghart, standing a step back, pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned lowly.

“…Captain. When we find the target, is it okay if I beat the crap out of her?”

“No problem. Permission granted.”

Replying with clear displeasure to Sieghart’s question, Isaac turned back to me. He bowed his head slightly and said,

“My apologies, Miss Nagi. Ever since I saw you, I have been using magic to verify the truth of your words. You have told us not a single lie. Please forgive my earlier rudeness.”

“Magic…”

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