Slaying the Demon King Sounded Cool…
Until I Got Reborn with Four S-Tier Girls and a Constant Need for Therapy.

I didn’t ask to be the chosen one.
I died doing something stupid. Now I’m in a fantasy world—with cursed daggers, glow-in-the-dark eyes, and a party full of women who could accidentally overthrow a kingdom.

There’s:
• Nyssari, the smug catgirl rogue who steals wallets and patience.
• Seralyn, a harpy healer who won’t talk unless someone’s dying.
• Zaelith, a dual-casting mage with a genius IQ and a death glare.
• And Vaelynn, a noble tank who blocks feelings like she blocks swords.

I’m supposed to lead them.
Keep them alive.
Save the world or something.

But honestly? The real final boss might be surviving my own party.

I wanted peace. I got plot armor and problems.
Pray for the Demon King. He’s not ready.