Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!

I instinctively slid behind Zyon, Art, and Freya. Cowardly? Maybe. They passed me a glance—somewhere between judgment and amusement—but didn’t comment. Thankfully.

Freya, ever the polite one, took the initiative. "Aunty," she greeted, "since when were you here? Is this... an illusion? Or are we actually somewhere else?"

Isolde chuckled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "No, this is real. The moment the dragon entered Everhart, I had it trapped in here—overlayed on the forest. You were in an illusion before. But now you’re in reality."

She turned to Art. "He knew. Didn’t tell you though."

All eyes locked onto him like a firing squad.

Art raised his hands, laughing nervously. "Haha... I might’ve forgotten. Or, maybe I wanted to see the look on your faces when the truth hit. And trust me, I’m not disappointed."

I bit my lower lip to keep from saying something unfiltered. My fingers twitched with the urge to smash his nose in.

Zyon groaned. "You really are a trashy bastard."

Art winked. "Yes, sir. That’s me. Grade-A certified trash. But now, Cassius~"—he sang my name—"what do you say now, huh? We got backup. Big, scary backup. Weren’t you acting all smug five minutes ago? What now?"

Still hiding behind the others like a professional coward, I lowered my voice to a level only small rodents could hear.

"It’s a good thing you managed to call her. I’m... very impressed. Truly. You’re the crown prince. So smart, so brave. What a legend."