6. Disqualified as a Human
6. Disqualified as a Human
"I hear you sparred with the Knight Order."
In the middle of dinner, my father's voice came laden with unease and worry.
"Yes."
"I see. Are you hurt anywhere?"
"I'm perfectly fine. They're the Eustetia Knight Order, so their skill was absolutely incredible. We sparred over thirty times, and I didn't get a single bruise."
Zzzt—I shot Father a glare and let the barbs fly.
"Look at this arm. I'm right-handed, and there isn't a single bruise, right? My shoulder's perfectly fine too."
"Hm, hm... I see."
Father, on the receiving end of that gaze, let out a flustered-sounding cough and gulped down some water.
"Oh my, our Eli must have been quite hurt."
Mother, as if she had expected exactly this, smiled her usual bright smile.
"Yes. I was so upset I nearly cried. It felt like they were all leaving me out, like I was left alone in the world. If I had known, I would have rather spent that time whacking a scarecrow. A scarecrow can't talk, and it doesn't have feelings, so there's no one to walk on eggshells around. Ugh."
With a final dramatic sigh, I chomped into a big piece of beef.
Nom nom nom.
"W-well, still, from what Dad heard, Eurasia gave you a proper match... Was that not the case?"
"You call that a proper match? Then I'll be getting another personal attendant before long."
"Pfft."
Kerion finally burst out laughing.
Father turned the conversation to Kerion, the only person there he could reliably get the better of.
"Right, Kerion. In your view, how was our Eli's skill?"
"That depends on who the Turius Eustetia sitting here right now is."
"Just think of me as your brother and speak."
"Fine. Then before I answer, let me ask one thing, Brother."
Tap, tap—Kerion tapped the table, looked at me, and spoke with his eyes.
Is that okay?
I gave a rough nod and kept eating my steak.
The reason Kerion asked me was because of a favor I had asked. A request I had casually slipped in before coming to dinner.
I rambled on a bit, but the point was:
Help me get a real sword.
After a long deliberation, Kerion agreed.
Nom nom nom.
At first I thought having my skills exposed to Kerion would be a hassle, but on second thought, it was an opportunity.
An opportunity for me to get a real sword.
So I decided to use it.
I figured Kerion, who is closer to the martial path than Father, would understand how I felt.
But he's helping more proactively than I expected, huh?
"Did you really not teach Eli anything?"
Father's cautious gaze turned toward me.
What? Zzzt—I glared right back at him.
"...Including Julie, no. Not even once."
"Yes. Then Eli is a genius."
Twitch. Father's body flinched.
Mother's smile deepened.
"...A genius?"
"I'm not saying this because she's my niece, and I'm not saying it to make you feel good. I'm saying this as the deputy commander of Nameless. Brother, Eli is a genius. A genius who might surpass even me, and perhaps even the commander of Nameless."
Father's gaze, which had been on Kerion, returned to me once more.
It was not the cautious gaze from before, nor a worried one, but the gaze of a family head.
Affection was still there, but it was veiled by an unfathomable charisma, enough to draw out a reverence I had forgotten for a while.
Anyway, who exactly is the commander of Nameless?
If Kerion is that strong and still only the deputy commander, then the commander has to be even stronger.
I get the feeling they won't tell me even if I ask.
Nameless isn't called Nameless for nothing.
I'd like to see them someday.
Even better if I could spar with them.
Feeling wistful, I tore into another big bite of beef.
Nom nom nom.
Anyway.
Kerion has done his part, so it's about time for me to step up.
A way to naturally bring up the real sword and use that momentum to persuade Father.
I do have something in mind, but that seems more likely to work on Mother than Father.
So the method that would work on Father is an emotional appeal.
After chewing and swallowing the meat that had puffed out my cheeks, I met Father's gaze.
...First, before doing that disgusting thing, let's try the direct approach. It might actually work.
"Father."
"Yes, Eli."
"Earlier, Uncle said I was good enough to handle a real sword. Right, Uncle?"
I looked at Kerion with eyes that said, Hurry up and back me up.
Kerion immediately nodded, playing it cool.
"Right. The other knights there, and the commanders, probably thought the same as me."
Very good.
I tore into my beef with satisfaction.
"And Eli isn't the type to swing a sword at just anyone, is she, Brother? Well, you and Julie know her personality best."
"That may be true. Even so, a real sword is out of the question. Eli, I'm saying this because I'm worried you'll get hurt."
I spat out the beef I had been chewing.
"What? You're worried I'll get hurt? There's no way I'd get hurt by a sword like that."
In my Past Life, I handled more than twenty weapons that would flay skin just by touching them.
Even if I got so drunk I couldn't recognize my own parents, I would never be cut by my own weapon.
But how do I explain that?
"Eli. A person's life does not always go as they wish. Of course, Dad knows very well how outstanding your skills are. But you are still too young. Take Kerion—he didn't hold his first real sword until seventeen, let alone fifteen."
When he brings up Kerion, who is currently stronger than me, I can't exactly refute it.
Frustrating. My insides are boiling.
I just want to scream, right here and now, that I was Ronan in my Past Life, and that every last one of those shitty fairy-tale books scattered across this world is complete bullshit.
But I can't do that.
There's no way they'd believe me.
So what do I do?
What do I mean, what do I do?
I have to use the method that only works on Father.
Ha.
The more I think about what I'm about to do, the more self-loathing surges up.
If it's for a real sword.
If it's for my growth.
I can endure it.
Still, it's better than my Past Life, isn't it?
Back then, I licked some worthless bastard's shoes just to become his disciple.
Hoo. Yeah. This is better than back then.
It's for the real sword. For the real sword.
So, just like when I licked that shoe.
Like a man, just close my eyes and go for it.
I am Ronan. Ronan Luzarak.
The Hero who claimed more Demon heads than anyone.
And now.
I am Eli.
Eliarnes Eustetia.
The only daughter of House Eustetia,
and a fifteen-year-old girl with a very, very adorable appearance.
So, this is not weird at all.
Hoo. I let out a deep breath and gazed at Father for a long moment.
"Hmph."
With a coy little sniff, I turned my head away.
As I did, my pink twintails tickled my cheek.
At the same time.
"Huh!?"
Father recoiled in shock.
"Oh my?"
Mother was uncharacteristically flustered.
"Cough."
Kerion punched his own stomach to hold back laughter.
I feel like throwing up. My stomach is twisting. My hands and feet are curling up like crazy, and my ribs are itching.
I want to spew every curse word right now and wash away these goddamn memories, but I can't.
A real sword.
I have to get a real sword that can fully withstand my Mana.
No matter what.
A cold silence.
At the end of it, Father stammered.
"E-Eli...?"
"What."
"Ah... Dad is sorry."
"I don't care. I hate Daddy. Hmph."
Whoosh—this time the other way.
Sure enough, my pink twintails followed the motion.
"Ah, she said 'I hate Daddy'... She hates me... But she called me Daddy..."
Father rose from his seat with a confused expression, as if unsure whether to be happy or sad.
And then, carefully, he started toward me.
"Don't come. If you come any closer, I'm going to that room."
I drove the nail in.
Father, slumped in his chair, was deathly pale.
Mother watched on as if she found me cute beyond words.
Kerion looked like he was dying of laughter.
Enduring the shitty feeling of bugs crawling all over my body, I forced it down and ground my teeth—crrk.
Then I stole a glance, met Father's eyes, and whipped my head away again.
Swish—swish—swish—
Every time my twintails swayed, Father's complexion grew paler, but it couldn't be helped.
See, this never would have happened if he had just assigned me one knight when I first asked.
And how long has he been pretending not to notice since then?
Father, now on the verge of tears, carefully asked,
"Eli... if Dad does something, will you forgive him?"
At the words I had been waiting for, I immediately blurted out the words stuck in my throat.
"A real sword."
"Huh?"
"Give me a two-handed sword made of black iron."
"Huh..."
I uncrossed my arms and turned to face Father.
"But I'm not asking for it for free. I'll spar. I'll spar with someone you choose from the Knight Order, and if I win, then give it to me. If you're worried about me getting hurt, you and Uncle Kerion can come as observers, right? I trust that the two of you would stop it right before either me or my opponent got hurt."
Not that anyone's going to get hurt.
"Haaah..."
"Is that not okay?"
Twitch—Father flinched, but he no longer looked like a doting father.
"Then, Eli. May I ask you one thing?"
"Yes."
"Dad is very curious about why you want to become so strong."
The reason I want to become strong.
That goes without saying.
To kill the Demon King.
To kill the Demon King whom my comrades could only seal.
That is the reason I grow stronger, and the reason I'm putting on this goddamn circus.
But I can't say that.
Because it's this goddamn era of peace.
So, I'll phrase it a little differently.
"Because I am a Eustetia."
Arisa Eustetia.
Because I'm the descendant of that chimpanzee, and of a Hero.
Because I was reincarnated as her descendant.
If not that,
then someone must have reincarnated me.
Whatever it is, the reason I must grow stronger is sufficient.
Because I swallowed the rest, my answer became ambiguous, but Father nodded.
"That's right. We are Eustetia."
Then he was lost in thought for quite a while.
He smiled brightly.
"Very well. Understood. A two-handed black iron sword. If Eli wins the spar, Dad will give it to you as a gift."
"Yes, thank you."
Just a moment ago, my teeth were grinding and I felt like my head would burst from the rush of blood.
That was definitely how it was. But now that I think about getting a real sword in my hands, I feel good again.
Black iron. The material I loved using in my Past Life.
Black iron that won't break even when you pour Mana into it.
It has an insane price, but it's worth every bit.
Seeing this, noble families really are nice.
You can buy that expensive black iron whenever you want.
Of course, that depends on the noble family.
The fact that I can eat, sleep, and shit comfortably is all thanks to my parents who care for me.
Even if I had been born a commoner instead of a noble, this family would definitely have been a happy family.
"...You don't hate Dad anymore, right?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Then, to celebrate, how about a kiss on the cheek for the first time in a while—"
"No."
"Then how about calling me Papa—"
"No."
"Then, then... will you at least give my shoulders a pat later...?"
Well, that much is nothing.
"Alright."
I nodded readily.
A shoulder rub is no big deal. It's not even cringey.
"Okay. Okay... Thank you."
Father answered in a choked-up voice, smiling very brightly.
*****
The following afternoon.
While Father and Kerion were exchanging various pleasantries with Karon, the commander of the First Knight Order,
"...My lady. Did I do something wrong to you...? If I did, I'm sorry..."
my sparring partner, Eurasia, approached with tears welling in her eyes and trembling like a leaf.
"You didn't do anything."
"But... hic, then why are you doing this to me...?"
"Because I'm most comfortable around you, and I like you best?"
"...Huh?"
Eurasia looked down at me as if asking what the hell I meant, tilting her head.
"Then shouldn't you be nicer to me...?"
"I am being nice to you."
Unable to retort to my confident answer, Eurasia whined like a puppy about to shit.
"Are you really... being nice to me? You're not just tormenting me?"
Actually, I do mess with her because she keeps calling me the Reincarnation of a chimpanzee.
Still, I really am being nice to her.
"Yeah. Really."
I looked into Eurasia's still-teary eyes.
I had been meaning to tell her this later.
But if she's like this, she'll be no use at all, so I might as well tell her now.
"Eurasia."
"*sniff*... Yes?"
"If you take me seriously in the spar, I'll buy you a sword made of black iron."
I don't know how much black iron goes for these days.
But I have some allowance saved up.
I never leave the house, so I have no use for it.
And there was nothing I wanted to buy.
So it's not a waste.
Considering my relationship with Eurasia going forward, it's a pretty decent gift.
"See? I'm being nice to you now—"
"My lady, you're the best! I'll do my best!! I love you!!!"
"Ah, shit! Don't hug me! Get off!"