Birthday Gift

The Empire's Knight Commander.

Histania Rowen

In the novel, he appeared as Michail's mentor. His affection for Michail overflowed to such an extent it was impossible to imagine him as an indifferent father who couldn't even celebrate a single birthday, and he was introduced as a tender character who cherished and adored the female protagonist like his own daughter.

Although he was taciturn and not one for many words, I remember him to be a solid support for the female lead. In the novel, it was said that he cherished the female lead because she reminded him of his youngest daughter who had died.

He was a character I quite liked as well.

The story of the strongest knight who lost his beloved daughter was pitiful and, at the same time, I could understand just how much he cared for the female protagonist.

There was no mention of Hanna in the story. He only occasionally referred to his youngest daughter when saying, "It was my fault…" and receiving comfort from the female lead.

I had thought of him as a fairly doting father, but in hindsight, he was no more than a man who regretted it all too late.

He was like an alcoholic.

When drunk, he would behave like a dog, and upon sobering up, he would ask for forgiveness while looking at the mess he'd made, no different from an alcoholic. I believe everyone can feel remorse, but perhaps because he was directly responsible for Hanna's death, his actions weren't comforting to me.

Honestly, it's a frivolous complaint.

No matter what judgment I cast on him, it won't change anything.

I can't exactly go and stomp on the Knight Commander myself, nor can I say to him, "If you act like that, your youngest daughter will die."

But something felt lacking.

The father who ignored her daughter's birthday.

The daughter who came to the wicked woman's house through the pouring rain.

Seeing her cry over a plate of Rice Cakes made it impossible to view the Knight Commander in a good light.

What could I do to give a good kick to that old man? I wondered what could be the greatest gift and what Hanna would love the most when I thought of one.

"From now on, Miss Hanna will train at our estate until school starts again."

"What?"

"You have to beat Michail."

Achieving growth shocking enough for the Knight Commander.

And bluntly rejecting her father with, "I don't need your help," which might just be the best kick in the Knight Commander's chest. Hanna has been a dutiful daughter so far, so a little bit of disobedience will be forgiven. If she gets kicked out of her home, we can employ her as a maid at our estate.

Of course, the salary would be saltier than salt itself.

It's an extreme conclusion, but I was certain that there could be no better gift than this.

A week passed quickly.

During my week at the estate, I fought a lot with the young lady, bickered and tussled, but we grew close and advanced to a friendship.

"Beggar!"

"Who's calling me a beggar!"

"If you're not a beggar, then what are you? You don't even go home!"

"I..I have a home!"

"Then go to your home!"

"…Sob"

Despite the young lady's fierce resistance, it was a meaningful time in the end.

To Hanna, a week would have usually been spent honing her swordsmanship alone, but a week with us offered her time to grow both mentally and technically.

"Birthday present?"

"I wasn't sure what you'd like, so for now I brought what I could think of."

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Strength Elixir [A]

◈ When consumed by a target whose 'strength attribute' is '+30' or under, it increases the 'strength attribute' by '+10'.

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"This precious thing… for me? You can't even buy this with money. It's an elixir that can't be bought on the black market."

"Think of it as an investment."

"I can't accept this. It's too much for me. I have some shame. How am I supposed to repay this kindness? I absolutely cannot accept it."

"Please take it."

It was a potion I had created countless times using my knowledge from the original work. I had given it to the young lady to drink, and I had consumed it myself, a kind of restorative tonic.

Easy to make, but, fearing my life could be in danger if I started selling it on the black market, I never did. This opportunity allowed me to conduct human experimentation and cheaply resolve the birthday present, which actually suited me well.

Of course, Hanna held my hand and cried her eyes out at that moment.

"Why are you so good to me? I've always been mean to the butler and thought badly of you in my heart."

"You thought badly of me in your heart?"

"…No."

"Well, that's natural. I do have an unlucky aura."

"The butler really knows how to break a mood."

"That's also one of my talents."

It was pleasant to see a smile mixed with happiness, which was different from the sorry one she had shown at the estate.

Hanna grew stronger.

The potion helped a lot, but the efforts and time she displayed at the estate gave her ample opportunity to grow on her own.

And today, a week later.

Hanna and I were preparing for the final stage.

'Quest.'

[Q. The Short-Lived Misfortune of the Extra 'Hanna']

Ignored by her father and disregarded by servants, she always resented her pathetic talent.

She is parched for praise.

1. Give her praise to boost her self-esteem. (9/10)

2. Increase 'affection' to over 40. [Affection: 51]

3. Defeat the 'Elite Orc Swordsman.' (0/1)

Reward: Swordsmanship LV. 6. Strength +3

Hanna: Swordsmanship Lv. 4, Beginner Aura (C)

Failure: Histania Hanna dies.

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The quest is now in its final stages.

I worked hard to raise Hanna's self-esteem with praise and, over the course of a week, built a lot of affection with her.

An affection of 51.

It isn't quite a guarantee, but it's like being able to lend 3 million won from the wallet of a young newcomer to society without a word.

An affection of 60 is like being best friends.

Maybe with over 60 affection, you could lend about 10 million won? Not many have raised the affection to over 60, so I wouldn't really know.

Over 70 affection is… Nobody has managed that, so I don't know. What's clear is that the affection of 51 between Hanna and me is by no means a small figure. If anything, it's high.

Having confirmed the high affection, I bowed to the young lady who looked at me with a pouty expression.

"I'll be off."

"I'll be going."

Both of us bowed politely. Hanna and myself.

And the young lady who nodded from the bed like a queen, with her chin held high, said haughtily.

"Don't come back. Play with me."

The bewitching voice of the young lady, tempting me to become jobless like her. The momentary contemplation to cast aside my sword and consider the path of unemployment was resisted by the weight of being a provider.

Is this the power of a professional jobless? The alluring voice was frightening.

Watching us, Hanna let out a deep sigh.

"Please stop playing along with those jokes, Butler. If you keep doing this, the young lady will keep throwing tantrums at you."

"I'm allowed to."

Olivia crossed her arms arrogantly. Hanna clenched her fist tightly at the provocative smile of a true villainess.

"Why are you allowed? Are you the young lady's property?"

"Right. Ricardo is mine."

"What?"

Hanna looked at me. I nodded slightly in response to her question.

"The truth is, 13 years ago, I signed a slave contract that disregarded human rights. Of course, it's been 12 months that I haven't received any salary, but you know."

I was bluffing. There wasn't even a contract for a salary, let alone a slave contract. The verbal contract based on trust between the young lady and me was everything. But I could tell Olivia's pride was wounded.

"Yikes…!"

Predictably, an odd scream escaped from the young lady.

"Pfft."

Hanna laughed victoriously, mocking Olivia.

"A boss who can't even pay."

"A homeless beggar!"

The two were oddly incompatible but somehow got along well in weird ways. They seemed unlikely to become close, but at times they were surprisingly attached. Perhaps because they liked the same person.

I would really like for us to become closer. After all, there might be an opportunity to attend the Academy…

In fact, I have a somewhat selfish request to make of Hanna.

If the female protagonist graduates and Hanna takes over the presidency at the Academy, I was hoping she'd create a chance for us to re-enroll. That's also one of the reasons I want to treat her even better.

I do feel bad for making such a request, but after she defeats the Elite Orc Swordsman and beats Michail, I plan to carefully ask her.

It would be a pity if she refuses, but I won't think badly of her for it. We'll just have to look for other ways.

Hanna and the young lady are still quarreling intensely. Their ability to insult each other without crossing the line is quite extraordinary.

Especially Olivia.

"Does the young lady not know how great the butler is!?"

"I know! He makes Rice Cakes and chicken!"

"Not that part!"

"Then what else is so great about him!"

"Grrr…"

Hanna glanced at me.

"He's kind and strong, and just… impressive in many ways!"

"I know!"

The fact that the young lady's mouth, which would have normally spewed nothing but swearing, had become gentle in such a short period of time was moving. Otherwise, Hanna would probably not have a single hair left on her head.

Hanna had improved a lot as well.

Recently, the atmosphere of the mansion has lightened. The late rainy season has ended, and now, we are just before the final barrier.

Taking in the chattering pair, I extended my farewell.

"I'll be off."

*** Pov Switch***

Inside the grand mansion.

A middle-aged man sitting in a dining room, lined with ornamental swords on the walls, said with a relaxed smile.

"How close is the eldest to mastering the aura?"

"In about three months, I think I can use a beginner aura."

"Hmm…"

The middle-aged man, wearing a satisfied smile, was Rowen.

His name was synonymous with the Empire's sword.

The proud head of the Histania family.

He was Histania Rowen.

Rowen, with his light brown hair, even kept a sword strapped to his waist during meals, a sign of his obsession with the blade.

Rowen surveyed his children with his dark eyes. They were proper offspring, inheriting their parents' good looks and loving features.

They had talents that were envied even among their peers, and Rowen wouldn't be ashamed to call them his offspring.

They still had a long way to go before satisfying his eyes, but it wasn't like they wouldn't be able to follow in his footsteps.

Surely, his son would take over him and become the Knight Commander of the Royal Knights, eventually earning the title of the Empire's sword.

And his daughter would take over the family Knights and exalt the name of Histania. He had only foreseen such a future for her.

However, the only concern that nagged at him was his youngest daughter, who was not at this gathering. Among his three children, she was the least talented.

Hanna, the only blemish in a family devoted to the sword who refused to give it up, was Rowen's biggest worry.

Rowen was always discontent with his youngest daughter handling the sword, fearing she would one day tarnish the Histania name with her inadequate talent.

A week ago her final image haunted him.

"It's my birthday today, Father. If it's not too much trouble, may I request a sparring session with you?"

"I'm busy right now."

"It'll only take a moment."

"Didn't you hear me say I'm busy?"

Rowen wished Hanna would put down the sword.

It wasn't warm paternal love since dealing with a sword meant facing dangers. He just wanted his daughter, who had no talent for the sword, to realize this fact, which is why he had been harsh on her.

He had ridiculed her in front of her friends and ignored her among family.

Others might call this cruel, but Rowen believed he wasn't wrong.

His own siblings had been neglected and compared by their father, yet they came to their senses and found success on their own. Since Rowen himself had succeeded thanks to his father's teachings, he was sure that Hanna would succeed if taught the same way.

He believed that wounds make a person stronger.

But strangely, Hanna's last appearance lingered in his mind.

"Why to me only! Did I ever say I would take over as head of the family? Or did I ask Father to teach me the family's swordsmanship? It's not an unreasonable favor… please, just once, only once, can't you treat me like you do to my sister and brother?"

Her desperate and exasperated voice echoed in his mind.

'I should look for her.'

He had heard from a servant that she had left the house, so he considered sending someone to look for her, especially since this time she had been gone for a whole week.

'When she returns, I must have a stern word with her.'

That was when it happened.

"Father, did you come because of Hanna's birthday?"

The eldest son broke the silence with his careful inquiry. His proud and talented son.

The arrogance was worrying, but he thought such self-assuredness was better than the timid youngest daughter.

Rowen shook his head.

"No."

"Then what brings you here?"

"I received a report that people have gone missing in the Hamel Mountains. The Royal Court has instructed me to investigate and then report back."

"The Hamel Mountains?"

The eldest son's usually expressionless face cracked at the mention. Rowen disliked that response. A knight should be able to control his expressions. Does the news of a missing person scare him? Such a lack of basic composure was unacceptable.

'He still has a long way to go.'

Rowen internally clicked his tongue and continued answering the firstborn's question.

"People are disappearing in the Hamel Mountains, including A-Class adventurers. The Emperor told me to enjoy my vacation and to stop by on my way back."

"I see."

"Especially the adventurers' bodies found near the Orc territories were grotesquely… What's wrong?"

At the mention of the adventurers' corpses, the eldest's expression twisted, and Rowen set his fork down momentarily.

Creases formed in his brow.

This was the second time. The display of a lack of discipline was quite irksome. However, the words spoken by the eldest son left Rowen speechless.

"The fact is, recent reports suggest the youngest has been working as an adventurer, specifically… there have been reports that she's been active around the Hamel Mountains…"

-Ding.

Suddenly, a clear and crisp sound pierced through Rowen's thoughts.

He couldn't gather his wits.

The strange blue screen before him was saying things he couldn't and mustn't believe, which caused Rowen's body to stiffen completely.

[Today marks the death anniversary of Histania 'Hanna'.]

[Quest 'Sinner' achieved.

◎You have earned the right to access 'certain parts' of the original work.

◎You may now view the death of 'Histania Hanna'.

Chills ran down Rowen's spine.]

[Would you like to view it?]

***

"Hurry up."

The sound of dozens of horse hooves climbing the mountain came with a stern command.

From knights in heavy armor to those with shoulder guards, the flag with Histania's emblem, a lion, fluttered midway up the mountain. The inception of this chapter's publication is linked to N0v3l.B1n.

Rowen, leading them at the forefront, had a troubled expression on his face.

He wasn't facing down a powerful foe.

It wasn't a battle against the Demon King's forces.

Nor was it the suppression of a rebel army.

Yet Rowen's lips were drier than they had ever been before.

"There won't be any trouble. Father, you know the youngest is timid. Someone as fearful as her wouldn't risk her life on such a challenge."

Mixed with the eldest son's sarcastic attempts at consolation,

"That's right. Just like the last time, she'll be hiding in an inn and will return soon. You'll see, by the time she comes back to the manor, she'll be holed up in her room."

And the second child's irritated retorts were heard, but Rowen's ears caught none of it.

—Save me… I don't want to die like this.

The only thing that filled Rowen's mind at the moment was the last image of the youngest daughter that the blue screen had shown.

'It must be a hallucination.'

The harrowing sight of his youngest daughter being savagely killed by an orc.

She was holding a sword with her blood-soaked hands, searching for her father, an image still so vivid to him. It had seemed too real to be a hallucination, and the voice of his daughter calling for him was clear.

The idea of Hanna dying was absurd. A daughter of the Histania family being killed by merely an orc?

For a moment, his vision went dark.

Rowen jerked his head up and shook the thoughts away.

'It must be the strange words of the eldest. It's just peculiar thoughts because the situations overlapped.'

'Maybe it's due to overworking lately.'

'The second child is right; the youngest is a coward. She must be at home for sure. When I get back, I definitely must make her stop wielding the sword.'

Countless excuses swirled in his head, but Rowen knew. The hallucination he saw wasn't simply due to fatigue.

Why did he see such a thing? Was it punishment for treating his daughter harshly, or had he somehow experienced a prophetic dream like the seers?

One thing was certain, it wasn't caused by an illusion or magic, but it felt like an actual memory.

A Sword Master who had reached the pinnacle in physical prowess could not be affected by mental magic.

It was impossible to be affected, and there was no way for it to happen.

If that were possible, the empire would be filled with wizards by now.

'It's just groundless fear.'

Rowen scolded himself.

He didn't dislike his youngest daughter.

It's just that his eye didn't go to her as much compared to his other children. He thought he was doing rather well.

After all, his own father had been far worse.

However, why did he continue to feel regret? If his youngest daughter were to die, if she died alone as the blue screen hallucination showed, seeking her father while her breath was cut off by an orc's greatsword…

What would become of him upon finding his daughter's cold corpse?

Would he be angry at her for tarnishing the Histania name, or would he just sit there and weep?

Rowen didn't want to imagine it.

He didn't want to envision himself holding his daughter's body and crying, showing a fragile figure steeped in late regret—an unsightly sight to linger on something that's already passed. If that should be the case, he should have treated her better from the start.

A knight, at least a knight, should always be aware that death is near…

"Halt… halt!"

One of the leading knights pointing to dense shrubs called out. The female knight gestured with her open palm to the approaching party.

"There's a body."

Between the shrubs pointed out by the female knight lay a corpse that had gone cold.

For a moment, Rowen felt as if his heart had stopped.

All manner of negative thoughts writhed in his mind, and cold sweat soaked the reins held in his hand.

The pale hand visible through the shrubs, long hair, and what appeared to be a sword about a meter long reminded him of someone he knew all too well.

Rowen swiftly dismounted his horse.

'It's impossible. This cannot be,' he thought.

He knew his son would find it laughable to see him, a Knight Commander, dismounting in such a manner without any control over his expression. Rowen was engaging in the very behavior he detested most, but petty thoughts like these were far from his unsettled mind.

Rowen's only focus was to reach the shrubs quickly.

As the knight crouched, examining the body, a small nameplate was raised in hand.

Rowen's body stiffened more and more.

'Please.'

'It cannot be.'

'Such things are mere illusions. Don't be afraid, Rowen.'

In that moment, Rowen found himself contemptible.

—I'm glad I eavesdropped when brother and father were talking. Father said he improved his skills by hunting orcs in the Hamel Mountains when he was young…

Hanna, who picked up on the story told to the eldest, had climbed the mountain with a face full of expectation.

And…

—Father would've fought without fear against something like this. Maybe if I catch it, Father might even praise me.

She was trembling, facing an orc four times her size, with a sword in hand.

Rowen's eyes clenched shut.

'Please, God…'

He had never imagined the day would come when he would seek God.

The Pope would surely laugh if he saw this.

As the knight rummaged through the disfigured body, they held up an adventurer's badge and said,

"The age is 51. An A-Class adventurer."

Rowen's face, which had gone pale, slowly regained its warmth.

"From now on, I'll move by myself. The Knight Order will split up into groups of five, focusing the search around the orc territory."

"Yes!"

Following the resonant affirmation of the knights, Rowen spoke coldly.

"Make haste."

***

"This is how you do it."

At the orc encampment at the peak of the Hamel Mountains, a pink picnic mat was neatly spread out.

Like someone who had come for a picnic, Hanna, who was pouring green tea with sandwiches and potato salad laid out before her, looked at me with a serene expression.

"How can I do that!"

"It's simple. Just swing your sword toward the carotid artery and they'll collapse with a thud. Easy, isn't it?"

"That's possible because it's you, the butler."

"Not at all. Ms. Hanna, you should be able to do it as well, right?"

I cocked my head slightly while speaking to Hanna.

"Probably?"

Around the picnic mat were orc corpses strewn about haphazardly. Not just the bodies of the infamous red orcs but also orc warriors with their heads neatly separated from their bodies, saying their final farewells to the world.

Now it's Hanna's turn to show what she can do. I looked at her brimming with anticipation.

"You can handle this much, right?"

"How is that possible!"

We had positioned ourselves at the location nearest to the mountain's peak.

Monsters labeled as 'elite' boast high value due to their rarity.

Even monsters with the same name boast three to four times the power when prefixed with the term 'elite.'

I vaguely remember from the original work that Michail often got trampled by elite monsters, so I have a rough idea of their habitat characteristics.

Firstly, elite monsters must not have been interfered with by human hands.

Because the parts of elite monsters are expensive and they're rare, they usually form groups and inhabit isolated regions.

That's why Hanna and I chose a location at the peak of the mountain where people are unlikely to tread, and we managed to find a habitat with a fair number of elite orcs.

Of course, there were more elite orcs than anticipated, which posed a problem.

"There are too many corpses."

Around us, adventurer corpses were piled as high as towers. The bodies of veteran adventurers, equipped with quality gear and ripe with age, were abnormally scattered everywhere.

There were even signs of actions not attributable to orcs among them, but that was not a pressing concern at the moment.

Hanna's growth is what matters now.

After slaying a decent orc and demonstrating the strategy, Hanna, with a sigh, scrutinized every aspect of my stance.

It was a good posture.

"After all the orcs you've beheaded, are you frightened now? Don't worry too much."

"But those were regular orcs… This is my first time facing an elite orc."

"It's okay."

I trust Hanna.

I'm here to protect her, and with her capabilities, she should barely manage.

Orcs are slow.

They wield heavy greatswords and focus on landing powerful blows. In contrast, Hanna is nimble and swift.

When they swing their greatswords, Hanna has sufficient agility to dodge and counter.

She might not realize it, but I am certain that Hanna's talent lies in her agility.

In the original work, she may have failed to deal a fatal blow to an orc due to a lack of strength, but now it's different.

Hanna stood up, bracing herself on her knees.

"Alright. Let's give it a try. You'll help out if anything happens, right?"

"Of course."

Yes, if anything happens, I'll assist her.

With that thought in mind, I picked up a rock and aimed at a giant orc visible at the bottom of the mountain slope.

"Hey? Why are you reaching out that way…? There's a smaller orc over there."

As my hand stretched toward the giant orc, Hanna awkwardly smiled and met my gaze. I showed her the provocative smile I had learned from the young lady.

If you're going to do it, might as well face a strong one.

"Get ready."

"No, wait a minute, butler?"

"Shoot!"

-Thwack!

The orc's cries echoed loudly following the dull sound.

-Wooooooaaaah!!!

Quickly, I hid behind Hanna.

"Good luck!"

I didn't forget to cheer.

"Son of a…!"

It was my first time realizing that Hanna could curse so well.

***

Hanna successfully defeated the orc.

Without sustaining any fatal wounds.

Only minor bruises, concluding the fight splendidly.

"Good job."

"I know. I know I worked hard."

Her becoming shameless like me was a pleasing sight to see. After all, no one notices you when you're too modest.

I handed her the water bottle.

"You were perfect. Especially how you slipped between the ribs to strike the vitals—truly impressive."

"Really?"

"Yes. If you were a little slow, you will surely meet the goddess."

"Tch… And?"

"Hmm?"

Hanna blushed.

Looking at me shyly and then quickly turning her head away was reminiscent of a girl her age.

"Isn't there more? I think there are many aspects of today to be praised…"

"Pfft."

"Why are you laughing?!"

"Just because."

Looks like my praises were still insufficient.

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[Q. The Short-Lived Misfortune of the Extra 'Hanna'

1. Boost her self-esteem with praise. (9/10)

2. Make the 'affection level' reach 40 or above. [Affection: 51]

3. Defeat an 'Elite Orc Swordsman.' (1/1)]

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I thought the quest would be completed if I praised her for killing the orc, but it seems she's grown resistant to the praises I've given her so far.

Praising isn't hard, and she really did well today, so I shouldn't hold back.

But.

It would have been better without any uninvited guests.

"Looks like we have a visitor?"

A man with a face like a praying mantis slowly emerged from behind the trees. It seemed he had been stealthily observing us and revealed himself once he saw Hanna had retired.

He was sneering at Hanna and me.

The dagger at his waist.

Facial features that would fit a dashing martial artist.

And the undesirable combination that screams backstabbing once you get close.

He was the typical bandit you'd find anywhere.

Only.

A particularly nasty sort of bandit.

The bandit's clothes were covered with adventurer badges. They were sloppily pinned to his armor, looking quite terrible as if they were trophies.

I knew who he was.

Though he didn't know me.

Such an unpleasant appearance and bizarre attire could only belong to one character from the novel.

The Hunter of Adventurers.

The villain who hunted numerous adventurers midway through the story, joining a heretical sect to become an Archbishop of Madness.

He was a tough one, dealing severe damage to Ruin with tricky magic and special dark magic.

'So that's why there were an abnormal number of adventurer corpses. They seemed skilled enough to take down elite orcs.'

The black magic circles on the ground and the giddily grinning mantis-faced man made me quite uneasy.

I commented upon seeing him.

"Wow. A villain."

I continued with my introduction.

"I'm also a villain, you know."

***

"Me, a villain? I am an artist, you know."

With a sinister smirk, the adventurer hunter drew a dagger from his waistband. His eyes, narrow slits, directed the jade-forged blade towards Hanna and me, reminiscent of some insect.

"Fighting insects is a first for me."

"I am not a bug charmer. I sculpt people with the beautiful magic created by the gods, an artist."

"No matter how I look at it, it seems right… Head, chest, abdomen divided, and… ah, not an insect because it's not six arms?"

The adventurer hunter, squinting his eyes, had seemingly caught on that he was being insulted, and asked me.

"In what way, might I ask?"

The man's narrowed eyes gazed at me. It was as if at any moment now, if I were to insult him further, he would immediately stab me in the throat.

I just shrugged.

From the way he creeps up, hunched over, to his grip on the two daggers held in reverse, he was the spitting image of a mantis.

I had resolved not to judge people by their looks, but the man's face before me excessively resembled an insect. Could calling him a person be an insult to humanity itself?

To uphold the dignity of mankind, I conveyed the uncomfortable truth to him.

"I mistook you for an insect because you resemble a praying mantis."

"What?"

"Looking so frail, it seems like a single punch could kill you, yet oddly, you're an insect with a nasty temper."

You.

You're so ugly.

"You look like a praying mantis."

Slowly, cracks formed on the man's face. Could it be the discomfort of being met with the truth? His mother must have always gaslit him by saying he was handsome. I was worried that by speaking the uncomfortable truth, I would become a failure as a son.

But what can you do?

He truly resembles a mantis.

The man gave a bitter smile. Trying not to appear narrow-minded, an awkward chuckle escaped him… and it felt satisfying.

"You think I resemble a mantis?"

"Yes."

"Ha ha ha… This is driving me crazy. You're the first person to speak to me this way."

"You have a really good friend."

"… Do you want to die?"

The mantis, upon realizing the falsehoods of his mother, did not seem to resonate with my sincerity.

In the novel, I had seen Michail trampled by this guy.

"The archbishop of madness…! Do you know how many innocent people have died by your hands?"

"Kishishit… I have only created artworks. The filth that destroys the world is merely purified by death as an art form."

"I'll kill you…"

"You said that last time too, yet you couldn't kill me, how regretful. Michail, I also wish to turn you into one of my artworks someday."

That was the true madness, overpowering Michail. This was the man who had overwhelmed the heroine's party.

But not now.

Now, he was nothing more than a performance artist who looked like an insect.

I told him earnestly.

"It's a first for me as well."

"…"

"Meeting someone who looks like a mantis. If I were a grade-schooler, I would have trapped you in an insect collecting jar."

The adventurer hunter's smile gradually dried up. Maybe realizing a truth he hadn't known for decades. If there was a mirror at home, he couldn't have been ignorant of it.

Perhaps he had never realized he resembled an insect, or maybe he had deluded himself into thinking he was handsome. The novel didn't have such a setting, so I didn't know, but I felt incredibly guilty for inadvertently attacking him personally.

"I'm sorry. You do really resemble one so I made a mistake."

"I…"

Mixed frustration could be heard in the voice of the adventurer hunter.

His voice wavered, perhaps with doubts about the secrets of his birth.

Pity the villains.

It was heartbreaking.

If it were modern times, maybe the power of medicine could have helped, but blame the era for being born a mantis.

"I… "

Dark energy began to gather in the mantis' daggers.

A foreboding and chilling energy.

It was black magic.

Flash. The mantis opened his eyes and spoke.

"Do I really resemble that unlovely creature?"

I drew my sword from my waist and said.

"Yes."

In an instant, the mantis' body flew towards me. A mirage of black energy swiftly moved to throttle my breath, but…

A soft 'pop' sound, and he was just a powerless afterimage that vanished.

[Your 'Black Magic Resistance' cancels 'Pascal's' magic.]

I smiled a villainous smile.

A pure white smile that was cruel and could overpower the opponent.

"What was it? Did you just shoot poison darts at me?"

The provocation, more powerful than any mental spell, reached Pascal.

"I thought you were a mantis, but you were a different insect. My apologies for the misunderstanding."

Following that, Pascal's reason flew away.

***

"Huff… Huff…"

Rowen ran swiftly.

His destination was the site of the loud noise coming from the top of the mountain. A malevolent aura and a rich scent of blood rode the wind towards him.

Strangely, impatience took hold of his heart.

Though he thought such a thing couldn't happen, the sinister thoughts showed no signs of abating.

Over and over, the image of his youngest daughter dying played in his mind. Her piteous figure searching for him emerged, along with a vision of himself embracing her cold, lifeless body.

"Damn it…"

On the way here, he pondered various things.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"If my youngest dies, could I cope?"

"Do I have the confidence to live without regrets?"

What was sure was this.

If his daughter were found as a cold corpse, Rowen knew he wouldn't be able to think reasonably anymore.

If any of his countless fears materialized,

If such a scene unfolded before his eyes, Rowen knew he wouldn't be able to keep his sanity.

He would either wipe out every orc tribe in the Hamel Mountains or possibly drive the orcs to extinction in the empire.

He'd find some excuse for it.

He was convinced that had there been no orcs, his daughter would not have died, and he would not have looked back at himself as the source of the excuse.

Rowen knew best that he was pedantic, stubborn, and a perfectionist who couldn't easily admit fault.

'Foolish man.'

Bit by bit, the source of the sound began to become visible.

Through the trees, he could see bodies, unmistakably victims of orcs, and some charred human bodies.

Rowen gripped his sword tightly.

He was anxious.

The sight of the corpses overlaid with the image of his daughter, causing the firmness in his heart to waver like reeds.

He had thought himself numb to death after crafting and witnessing it across numerous battlefields.

But now, he was more frightened than any war before.

A familiar sight caught his eye.

"Father…"

In the hallucination, he started to see the orc habitat where his daughter had been dying.

Rowen stomped the ground. He had to check for himself, convinced his daughter would be there. But contrary to his wishes, a thick cloud of dust obscured the area.

Nothing was visible.

"Damn it."

He had an intuition. He was already too late.

In the hallucination, his daughter's last sighting was the end of a thick cloud of dust. Her breathing ceased in the dust cloud where not an inch ahead could be seen.

As he walked aimlessly, losing his senses to the dust cloud…

Clang.

A familiar sword struck his foot. A flashy golden handle with a gold-ruby encrusted in the center, and the family's coat of arms etched on the blade.

A long memory from when Hanna was first introduced to the world, he had given her this sword so she could later grow to spread the name of Histania.

He had no idea she still had this sword.

Its edge was completely worn. The handle bore fingerprints, a testament to its long use.

Among the numerous swords he had bought for his other children, this was the one he had only bought once for Hanna, and it hit him like a nail in the heart.

More than anything, it was sharp. It cut deeper than any sword and left a wound graver than any swordsmanship.

The sword he had bought her lay mercilessly on the ground.

"…"

The ground was soaked with blood.

Mostly it was the green blood of orcs, but there was also a significant amount of red human blood mixed in, forming a murky color.

Rowen, as if entranced, said…

"… No."

A voice of denial escaped him.

Unbelievable.

It must not be believed.

His father was a sword master.

He himself was the sword of the empire.

He couldn't bear to witness such a loss of life.

What was the purpose of wielding a sword?

Why had he been harsh to his daughter, whom he so wanted to be acknowledged?

Rowen's mind couldn't find the answer.

Only now did Rowen remember a line written on the blue message.

'Sinner'

That's right.

He himself was a sinner.

For the first time in a while, Rowen tried to call an awkward name.

"Hanna, where are you?"

Towards the billowing cloud, he spoke in a voice burning out.

"We're supposed to spar. You promised…"

Although she did not respond, he deeply regretted how cruelly he had ignored her on her birthday.

What tragedy would greet him when the smoke cleared? Would that nightmare he saw in the hallucination replay?

Rowen was scared.

"Daddy is…"

Now, he seemed to be ready to admit.

"Daddy is sorry…"

That was when it happened.

Thud…!

"Hanna, Miss, you're not supposed to hit there. You have to hit the armored areas to avoid leaving marks."

"Ahah…! Would that be a perfect crime?"

"Yes, that's right."

Through the dissipating dust cloud, he could see his daughter, laughing alongside a man as they beat someone.

"Heeheehee…"

Hanna's expression as she thumped someone with a scabbard looked the happiest he'd ever seen her.

*** ***

At the summit of Hamel Mountain

When I came to my senses, I saw the knights of the Histania family apprehending an insect in human disguise.

"Let me go–––! I will kill that bastard! What does my face resemble! A mantis? Don't disregard art!"

"Oh… Insects can swear too?"

"Aaaargh!!"

In the novel, the villain responsible for hundreds of deaths made such a lonely exit.

He wasn't a good person, but the adventurer hunter did a good deed at the last moment. Perhaps it was his way of repaying for making him realize the truth of a kind lie.

He left with the 300,000 gold bounty on his head as a parting gift. It was the moment I learned why a swordsman versed in three-sword style had turned into a bounty hunter.

As I waved off the adventurer hunter with a beaming smile, Hanna's expression remained frozen.

"…"

Because there, right before her eyes, stood the protagonists that had forced her to this place without giving her a chance to relish the thrill of soloing an elite orc.

Hanna's face was stiff with tension as she looked down at the ground.

"Histania Hanna."

A middle-aged voice reached her ears. A voice as heavy and solemn as a lion's.

I had thought it impossible to discern stature from voice alone, but the man before us made it possible.

Histania Rowen.

The sword of the empire and, at this point in the novel, the strongest person.

I looked him straight in the eyes.

Steady pupils.

Bright brown hair and the empire's treasure sword at his waist. He was precisely the image of the knights' captain described in the novel.

"Aren't you going to answer when your father is calling?"

An annoyed woman's voice chimed in. Standing at Rowen's side, arms crossed, was a woman looking at Hanna and me alternately with her heavily made-up eyes and cat-like slits.

She seemed to look at us with disdain.

Of course, I didn't view her favorably either.

After all, she must be one of the factors that led to Hanna's death in the original story.

"Hey. Answer."

Hanna didn't respond to the woman's question. More precisely, she couldn't respond. At the woman's small shout, Hanna flinched and discreetly moved closer to me.

The woman, arms crossed, waiting for an answer. It seemed as though she would keep looking at us until the sun went down, so I kindly answered for her.

"Yes."

"Not you."

"Didn't you call for me? I thought I should give you my account number."

"Are you joking?"

"No, I'm serious."

"Are you crazy?"

"I'm quite sane, thank you."

A sharp exchange ensued.

A fight between a rude woman and a man who cared about money. It was hard to decide who was better, but having been educated by a villainess for 13 years, I seemed to be gaining the upper hand.

"Who are you to pick a fight?"

"And who might you be?"

"Hey… Histania Hanna. You hang out with this kind of man because you have no friends? Like attracts like, I see."

"Ah, it's your sister. I thought she was too rude to be a noble. My apologies."

"This son of a–"

"Bark."

As the atmosphere became increasingly tense.

Hanna hurriedly spoke up.

"Both of you, please stop."

It was a shame.

A bit more bickering, and I would have been able to extract some juice. I glared at Hanna's sister, promising a next time.

The conversation between the two relatives began after Hanna's response.

"Why have you come here?"

"…On a matter of business."

"Then, tend to your business and leave. I too have my business to tend to."

Hanna spoke coldly to her father.

On any other day, she wouldn't have spoken to her father like this. Maybe she would have expected praise for single-handedly defeating an elite orc, twisting and turning in anticipation. But today, she wasn't happy to see her father. Instead, she was irritated.

Rowen was perplexed by Hanna's rebellion, something he had never before seen, but he didn't take it seriously.

Because he knew Hanna feared her father.

The gentle youngest daughter who always followed his commands. She must be throwing a tantrum over her last birthday. He was certain she'd calm down at his word.

Rowen thought.

This opportunity was the right time to break Hanna's sword for good. After the hallucination, he decided he could no longer indulge her any further wandering.

Hanna's will didn't matter to him.

"A father finds nothing more distasteful than a person wielding a sword without talent."

His well-intended words deeply wounded Hanna. The directness, coming from a head convinced his choices were the best, couldn't possibly come across well to Hanna.

"You lack talent."

"…"

"Wielding a sword itself is meaningless. No matter what spirit brought you up this mountain or what thoughts inspired you to pick up the sword, even you know you'll never reach their realm. You're neither the famed Michail of the Royal Academy nor your brother or sister."

"…"

"You are my child, but I must say, you're hopeless."

Hanna's mouth seemed unwilling to open.

Was it from disappointment?

Or had belated adolescence arrived and she was ignoring her father's words? Personally, I hoped for the latter, but Hanna's clenched fist and bowed head looked more like the former.

Rowen confiscated Hanna's sword.

"If you want my recognition, give up the sword. No matter how much you swing it, you will never meet my eye."

Was it okay to speak to his daughter like that?

My fondness for the captain of the knights continued to plummet.

Of course, his fondness for me was nonexistent.

[Histania Rowen Lv. 100]

[Profession: Captain of the Royal Knights]

[Favorability: -42]

[Favorite Topics: The honor of Histania/Talented swordsmen/Praise for his children]

[Disliked Topics: Incompetent fathers/Untaxed swordsmen/Histania Hanna]

We both seemed to detest the same things. Fortunately, they didn't overlap.

Rowen's selfish words knew no end.

"There's a reason I ignored you and discriminated against you. I thought you were smart enough to understand why."

"But still, the sword…!"

"Quiet."

Clang. Hanna's sword hit the floor. Witnessing the sword given by her father carelessly discarded, Hanna's eyes reddened.

Talent.

What was so great about that damned talent? Even the butler told her she had talent, so why wouldn't her father acknowledge her?

She knew she lacked talent, having been told repeatedly by her father and her sister and brother to the point of getting bored.

But, what right do you have to say that when you've done nothing for me? You've never advised me on a different path nor comforted me with warm words. Do you think you have the right to criticize me?

Hanna answered only by clenching her fist. It was her sole act of defiance.

"When you return home, start by withdrawing from the academy."

"Father!"

"You'll never think of the sword again. Besides forbidding entry to the training grounds, I will have every sword in your name destroyed."

Rowen had made up his mind.

No more chances.

"If you still can't give it up, I'll consider arranging a political marriage."

"I will never do it."

"If you manage to wield aura, I'd acknowledge you, but that's impossible, isn't it?"

"That's ridiculous…"

"That's how I feel. You're undertaking a task so absurd, it's exceedingly displeasing."

"Did I ever ask you for much? Each and every time, all I got from you was displeasure! Did I ever ask you for anything significant?"

By now, tears were streaming down Hanna's face. Why did this woman shed so many tears, I wondered, seeing her cry more often than smile.

"I won't ask you to teach me anymore."

"…"

"I won't fly the family name high and wield a sword anymore. That's right… Just disinherit me, that'd be simpler. It's good since you never considered me your daughter anyway."

"Didn't I tell you to be silent?"

Thud. Hanna knelt down.

She was pleading, clasping her hands together in front of her father.

"Please… please just leave me be. Let me be, as you always have."

If it were me in that situation, I would have spat how filthy and petty it was and left home. Perhaps because I am an orphan without parents, the sight of the family before me elicited not a hint of envy. Instead, my relationship with the lady seemed more harmonious.

I wanted to intervene, but I couldn't. I had learned that family issues should be resolved by the family.

However.

I was feeling too upset to stay silent.

"I apologize for interrupting, but may I ask on what basis you've determined that Miss Hanna lacks talent?"

I scanned everyone before me with a steely look, implying that if they had complaints, they should voice them now, but be prepared for the consequences, all while speaking in a deliberately pleasant tone.

"Are you perhaps blind? If you had eyes, you couldn't say such a thing. Right, Miss Hanna?"

"Uh…?"

"That's right?"

Hanna, who was kneeling on the ground, looked up at me. Her dirtied knees further soured her mood.

I tried to help Hanna up, but her legs seemed too weak to stand.

She looked at me as if to say this shouldn't be happening, but my anger had long since dissolved.

My image is already at rock bottom anyway.

Even if I get more insults here, it's just treading water. There's nothing to lose.

"Has the head of the Histania family ever fought an elite orc at your age?"

"…And who are you?"

"I am a friend of Miss Hanna."

"State your name and the family you belong to."

"I refuse."

I cut off Rowen.

What more could you do to me if you knew who I was, except more of the same disregard?

I had no intention of answering the captain of the knights' questions. I had no desire to engage in conversation with someone who judges a child based on their talent.

"Seeing as you haven't answered, it must mean you haven't. Of course. The kind of person who would challenge an elite orc at this age…"

I gave Rowen a hard look.

"…must be someone determined to die."

Suppressing the malice he almost murdered her with, I spoke openly to him.

"Only a kind of maniac who knows they're likely to die would do such a thing."

Rowen glared at me.

His children did the same,

As did his knights.

But what can you do about it?

You're the ones in the wrong after all.

I have no intention of treating those who tormented the lady's friend like guests. Be grateful that I haven't insulted you.

I praised Hanna.

Even though no one else acknowledged her,

I had to.

Because that way, her efforts so far wouldn't have been in vain.

"Miss Hanna made it possible. Isn't that amazing? Why aren't you applauding? I think it's impressive."

I said with a hint of irritation.

"Have any of you done something like this?"

I looked at Hanna and spoke.

"Miss Hanna, you have the talent to learn. It's the teaching talent that's lacking, someone who ran away because of it. Despite that, you haven't been able to display your talent."

Hanna, who was crouching, looked up at me. The look she gave me was as if she had seen a prince on a white horse, like she had been waiting for someone to fight by her side.

[Hanna's affinity has increased by +30.]

I smiled weakly at Hanna and said,

"See, you do have talent."

────────────────

Q. The quest [Doomed to Die Young, The Tragic Extra 'Hanna'] has been completed.

────────────────

Suddenly, a golden aura burst from Hanna's hand, and she flung herself into my arms.

"Happy birthday."

The late gift had finally arrived for Hanna.