Reborn As The Duke’s Daughter: Noodle Apocalypse In Another World

The Evernight family's ancestral birthing chamber was not prepared for me.

Curtains depicting serene noble births?

Ripped.

A centuries-old "blessed" birthing stool?

Shattered.

The archbishop's dignity?

Annihilated.

As Duchess Meredith's contractions began, the household descended into pandemonium.

Maids sprinted down hallways with armfuls of towels, the court physician tripped over his own robes, and the duke—renowned for decapitating rebels with a butter knife—stood pale and useless in a corner, muttering, "What if I drop her? What if I sneeze and drop her?"

Then I arrived—not with a whimper, but a bang.

The first sign of trouble was the chandelier.

As my mother's final push echoed through the room, the crystal monstrosity above exploded, showering the midwife in glass confetti.

"A… a blessing from the gods!"the archbishop declared, voice trembling as he scribbled notes for his official report. "The child is clearly touched by divine—"

SPLORTCH.

A chunk of amniotic fluid hit him square in the eye.

"Or perhaps cursed," he amended, wiping his face with a sacred relic (which later sold at auction for twice its value as a "holy snot rag").

Duke Cassian Evernight, conqueror of kingdoms and terror of tax evaders, was handed his newborn daughter.

He froze.

"She's… purple," he whispered.

"All babies are purple, dear," the duchess said, sipping wine like she'd just finished a mildly taxing board meeting.

"But what if she stays purple?"

I chose that moment to latch onto his signet ring with a grip stronger than the kingdom's economy.

"BY THE TWELVE HELLS—!"

The maids would later swear they saw tears in his eyes as he pried me loose.

"She's perfect."

As the staff cleaned up, the head maid gasped.

"My lady—her wrist!"

A crescent-shaped birthmark glowed faintly.

"The Child of Moon and Shadow," the duchess murmured, tracing the mark. "Destined to unite realms, blah blah, typical Tuesday."

Then I sneezed.

The mark flared, and,

The archbishop's robes burst into harmless blue flames.

The duke's sword floated out of its scabbard.

A spectral voice boomed. "Y'all ain't ready for this plot twist."

"We'll… omit that from the records," the duchess said, tossing the scribe a bag of gold.

In the servants' quarters, bets raged.

Cook: "50 coins says she walks by six months!"

Stableman: "100 says she rides a dragon first!"

Head Maid: "200 says she becomes the dragon!"

The butler sighed.

"I'm just glad she didn't explode the whole chandelier."

Meanwhile, on Earth…

Chairman Meow's Live Stream:

Video of him batting my EX' ACT lightstick into a toilet.

Caption:"This is for the noodles you owe me, Ayaka."