Chapter 1 – Eliaernes Eustetia

“Ellie, today I’m going to read you a different storybook from the ones I’ve read before. How does that sound?”

“A new storybook! I love it! Hehe.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

A young girl with pink hair tied in twin tails snuggled into her mother’s warm, cozy embrace.

She was the young lady of the Duke Eustetia family.

Eliaernes Eustetia listened intently to her mother’s gentle voice as she prepared to read the story.

Julie Eustetia, Eliaernes’ mother, cleared her throat elegantly and began to read slowly, ensuring her daughter wouldn’t miss a word.

“Four hundred years ago, four people gathered to defeat a terribly evil Demon King who had descended upon our world. People called them ‘Heroes.’”

Heroes?

Ellie tilted her head, having never heard the word before.

But she didn’t interrupt. Smart and well-behaved, Ellie believed the story would soon explain what a Hero was.

“A Hero is someone chosen by a Holy Relic, bestowed by Yurpia, the Sky God, who watches over our world and its people.”

Ellie’s guess had been correct.

Though only ten, Ellie was intelligent and wise beyond her years, possessing a patience rare for her age.

But her short legs and pink twin tails, shaking excitedly, betrayed her composure.

Julie, finding even that adorable, gently tickled Ellie’s hair.

“However, not all of them were Heroes. That’s because not all four were chosen by a Holy Relic.”

Ellie tilted her head again in confusion.

Julie paused briefly before continuing.

If they weren’t all Heroes, then why were they called Heroes?

Ellie’s lips pursed, her cheeks puffed, and her fingers wiggled.

Julie watched her daughter’s growing curiosity with adoration.

“Ugh… M-Mama! If they weren’t all Heroes, then why—”

Before Ellie could finish, Julie resumed reading.

“Even so, they were all called Heroes because they were braver and shone brighter than anyone else.”

“Oh…”

Hearing the words “brave and shining,” Ellie’s eyes sparkled.

“Heroes… they’re so cool…”

She repeated the word “Hero” to herself several times, pressing deeper into her mother’s embrace.

Breathing softly, she basked in Julie’s warmth.

“The first Hero was Paulo Prandis. Paulo, the second son of a small farming family on the Empire’s frontier, was chosen by the Relic of Humility, the ‘Sacred Sword Humble,’ to become a Hero.”

An illustration from the storybook appeared before Ellie’s eyes.

The sword looked plain and ordinary, far from what one might expect of a sacred sword.

It seemed like something easily found in any village blacksmith’s shop. Ellie, slightly disappointed, examined the illustration closely.

But Ellie was clever.

Noticing the word “humility” before the sword’s name, she glanced between the sword and the word. Understanding dawned in her sparkling eyes as she gently stroked the picture.

“Paulo, chosen by the Relic of Humility, was a very humble and kind Hero. Those who admired him praised him wherever he went, raising his fame higher than the stars in the night sky.”

“Higher than the stars… Wow…”

“The second Hero was Luna St. Pranecia. Luna, the Saintess of the Pranecia Holy Kingdom, was chosen by the Relic of Diligence, the ‘Holy Mark Sacred.’”

The illustration of the Holy Mark Sacred filled Ellie’s vision.

It had no physical form.

As the name suggested, it was a holy mark, a scar-like symbol.

A soft, spreading light.

A hidden sun within.

A symbol representing Yurpia, the Sky God.

Unlike before, Ellie reverently touched the symbol with great respect.

“Saintess Luna, chosen by the Relic of Diligence, was incredibly diligent and faithful. No matter where she went, she never turned away from the wounded. Even when exhausted, she always healed everyone’s injuries with a kind smile.”

Ellie tilted her head once more.

…Saintess Luna Secrid Pranecia.

Luna Secrid Pranecia?

That name felt strangely familiar.

“Next, although not chosen by a Holy Relic, there was someone more courageous than anyone, who always walked ahead of Paulo, clearing his path—the Weapon Master.”

Weapon Master.

At those words, Ellie’s face turned pale.

Her swinging legs and bouncing twin tails froze.

The cheerful smile on her face stiffened.

Ellie knew that name.

Though not chosen by a Holy Relic.

He never faltered.

He boldly led the way, always a step ahead of the Hero.

Sacrificing everything he had.

The Weapon Master.

His name was…

Ronan.

Ronan Lujarak.

“Arisa Eustetia.”

“…Huh? E-Eustetia? Mama! But Eustetia is our family name—”

“And lastly, the final Hero.”

“Eh?”

Julie continued without pause, leaving Ellie confused and tilting her head repeatedly.

Wait, what?

What is this? What did she just say?

Mama? Mama, what did you just—

Arisa Eustetia?

My name is Eliaernes Eustetia, though?

The same Eustetia?

And… Weapon Master Arisa?

“Among the four Heroes, there was one who was the most violent and impatient. Narrow-minded, selfish, and quick to anger, he earned countless criticism and persecution. Yet, he never bowed his head. People mocked him solely for being a martial artist, but he always held his head high. He was the strongest martial artist of all. His name was…”

Martial artist.

Martial artist.

Martial artist.

Chimpanzee.

Ellie knew that chimpanzee’s name very well. But it didn’t roll off her tongue.

Because instead of calling her by name, they called her a chimpanzee.

Still, she hadn’t forgotten the name.

She couldn’t forget.

She had spent 14 years as a comrade alongside her.

And just moments ago, she had heard that name again.

That martial artist.

No, that chimpanzee’s name was…

Arisa Eustetia.

“Ronan Lujarak. The martial artist Ronan.”

What?

What??

What???

“M-M-M-M-M… Martial artist, Ronan…?!”

“Oh my, Ellie? Why all of a sudden—”

“N-No… No… Nooo!”

Upon hearing “martial artist Ronan,” Ellie screamed and twisted her body in a frenzy, feeling a sharp pain in her neck as if her nerves had snapped.

“I’m not a chimpanzee…”

And with that, she lost consciousness.

***

I opened my eyes.

A canopy of pink filled my vision.

The pink ceiling, which I could never get used to, greeted me.

“…Ah.”

A small voice escaped my slightly parted lips.

A soft, sweet voice.

“Goddamn it…”

I cursed under my breath.

It didn’t suit me.

It didn’t suit me at all.

How could it?

This body, this voice, belonged to a mere 10-year-old girl.

Puffy cheeks, short stature.

The voice of an adorable little girl.

“Sigh…”

I sat up and started organizing my thoughts.

Let’s go back to just before I died.

We had slain four of the Seven Generals when we learned the Demon King’s seal had been broken.

So, we immediately headed to the Demon King’s castle to defeat him. But then our comrade, the mage Kaloso, that bastard, betrayed us.

As if that weren’t enough, he fired magic directly at Arisa, the chimpanzee.

At that time, Arisa was bandaging my wounds and didn’t see it coming.

What happens when you don’t see an attack? You get hit and die, obviously.

If it had been me, Luna, or Paulo facing forward, we could have easily blocked it. But Arisa, who had her back turned, couldn’t.

So, I pushed the chimpanzee out of the way and took the hit instead.

I tried to block it, but my stance was unstable, and my body was in terrible shape, so I couldn’t.

Even then, Luna could have healed me with her divine power if it hadn’t been for the curse and dark magic laced into that spell.

And so, I died.

And then.

And then.

And then…

Fast forward to now.

Sucking on a soft, rubber pacifier.

Laughing at the mobile hanging from the ceiling.

Wearing a fluttering dress and cute twin tails.

For the past ten years, I’ve been living as everyone’s beloved daughter, using my cuteness to win over the entire world.

Mama… no, damn it.

Mother. I fainted in Julie’s arms while she was reading me a storybook.

Then, as soon as I woke up, I read the storybook again and fainted again.

Waking up, reading, fainting.

Waking up, reading, fainting.

I repeated this cycle four times after seeing the words “martial artist Ronan.”

Finally, after searching through books and records in Papa’s—damn it, I mean Father’s study, I remembered everything.

I finally understood my situation.

I was…

A member of the Hero party, assembled to defeat the Demon King.

I, Ronan Lujarak, once called the Weapon Master…

Had been reborn.

As Eliaernes Eustetia, the only daughter of the Duke Eustetia family.

And…

As the descendant of the chimpanzee, Arisa Eustetia.

I had reincarnated.

…Fine.

Being reincarnated as a girl?

I could accept that. A hundred times, a thousand times, even ten thousand times, I could accept it.

But.

Why is it that instead of Ronan Lujarak, Weapon Master, I’m called “martial artist”?

Why the hell am I the chimpanzee?

And why, of all people, am I the descendant of that chimpanzee?

At the very least, Paulo or Luna… no, even their descendants would have been bad.

And also!

Who the hell turned that twisted, slanderous story into a children’s book? Huh?

They even left out the part where Kaloso, that bastard, betrayed us.

Sure, it’s not something you’d include in a story for kids.

But still, I can’t understand it.

Martial artist.

No, the chimpanzee was Arisa.

That slightly dim, overly kind girl was the martial artist.

I was…

I, Ronan, was the Weapon Master.

So, why…?

Whoever that insane bastard was who wrote this storybook, I’ll find them.

I’ll find them, and I’ll…

I’ll…

What can I even do…?

What can I do with these soft, tiny hands and this cute little face?

Besides, it’s been 400 years.

The whole world already knows this story.

The bastard who wrote this damn book is probably long dead by now.

“Sigh…”

With a pounding headache, I turned my head.

There was a mirror.

A mirror reflecting a cute, adorable little girl.

The girl in the mirror wore a lovely light purple dress.

Her pink hair was a mess, and her body trembled.

Her wide eyes, brighter than cherry blossoms, were filled with unshed tears.

Her tiny lips, so small she couldn’t even fit a single strawberry in her mouth, were biting down on strands of her hair.

“Ptooey, ptooey.”

She was cute.

Uselessly cute.

So cute it was infuriating.

So cute I wanted to bite her to death.

I’m so angry.

I’m incredibly, incredibly angry.

“Aha… Sniff, sniff…”

With hands that had never developed a single callus, hands that I doubted could even hold a sword properly, I wiped my face.

Moist sweat gathered around my eyes.

My cheeks were soft.

And my palms were squishy.