It had been a life of nothing but giving up.
Niina von Frodaite had viewed her existence, from the moment she was born until now, in exactly that way.
Her birth family was a distinguished lineage of knights.
Generation after generation, they had inherited a body-enhancement type of Bloodline Magic, and — rare for this country — they were a family that placed particular emphasis on honing their swordsmanship.
Using that power, they made a living by guarding the mages of this country who were poor at close combat — essentially a mercenary trade — and it was a profession the entire family pursued as their livelihood.
She was born as the eldest child and only daughter of that family.
And she was more gifted with the sword than any of her younger brothers.
She loved wielding a blade.
Moving her body, honing her technique — it was all fun, and having people praise her for it, seeing them smile with delight, made her happy.
So at that time, she still... believed herself to be someone remarkable.
She didn't mind that she would one day inherit the family, and she genuinely saw serving people with the sword she loved as a worthy purpose in life — a goal she should pursue with passion and mastery.
What shattered was—
the discovery of her Bloodline Magic—
No.
It wasn't that.
"Why?! Why you, sis?! Because of you, I...!"
Her brother. One of her younger brothers, his entire body covered in bruises.
That was the moment — when he had looked at her with eyes full of hatred, accusing her with seething resentment.
And in that moment, she understood.
The more she excelled, the more her talent was recognized.
A worthless failure beaten by a girl. A weakling inferior even to a woman — that's what they called him, from the people around him, and above all, from their father, who valued sword talent above all else. Try harder. Since you lack talent, put in more effort. Keep up with your sister.
He was berated, punished, trained to the point of torture — and yet even so, he still couldn't catch up.
Naturally, she went straight to their father. She begged him to stop — to stop tormenting her little brother like that.
But the father wouldn't listen. Instead, he said this to her:
"More than anything, that boy himself wishes to catch up to you. And you, of all people, would dare take that goal away from him?"
That the cause of all her brother's suffering was entirely her fault.
He declared it coldly, mercilessly.
From that day on, she became afraid to hold a sword.
Before, she'd been happy just swinging her sword without a thought... But now, every time, that expression filled with hatred flickered through her mind — the realization that the more she grew stronger, the more she was hurting her brother, hurting all her brothers.
Training. Honing her skills. Growing stronger... She came to despise it all with an intensity she couldn't bear. Because she was someone who loved her family more than most, that contradiction cut even deeper.
Even when she trained, she had no heart for it. The teachers and her father saw through her and scolded her, which she hated even more, sapping her motivation further... But even training she merely went through the motions of still made her stronger, and that only deepened the rift between her and her family.
And then, the final blow... her Bloodline Magic was discovered.
She was cursed at — told she was something ugly, something evil. In an instant, her standing became precarious. Her father grew disappointed in her, and her brothers subjected her to brutal treatment, as if venting all the resentment they'd harbored until then.
And at the very end, the brother who had first directed his hatred at her appeared before her.
He mocked her Bloodline Magic... and yet still spat out resentment about never being able to catch up to her swordsmanship — and yet even despite all of that, he still held feelings of family affection toward her.
At those last words, Niina's face briefly lit up with hope... but that brother of hers —
Contrary to his words, with a face full of nothing but resentment, hatred, and mockery — with not a trace of positive emotion to be found — he declared:
"But you know... isn't all of that just something you planted in me with that charm magic of yours?"
Words with no basis in fact. Conjecture with not a shred of truth.
──She told her with unparalleled cruelty that she no longer wanted to think of Niina as family.
In that moment, she thought.
...Ah.
──
Then
,
I'm done
, she thought.
Rather than growing strong enough to hurt her family.
Rather than being resented. Rather than being hated. ...Rather than having her family say those kinds of things to her.
Forget it. I don't need a sword. I can't find any meaning in getting stronger.
The passion she had held so fiercely until now — no, the passion she had mistakenly believed she held — she felt it rapidly cooling as it lost its illusory shape.
And right after that, her father delivered his declaration of disownment, citing magic as the reason.
She probably could have resisted if she'd wanted to... but in that moment, she could find no point in doing so.
She meekly accepted it, and so she was cast out of her birth family.
...In the end, that was all it amounted to.
When it came to the sword — no, not just the sword, but anything at all.
She could only keep going when things were enjoyable. The moment something painful or unpleasant came along, she'd throw it all away — that was all she was capable of.
Fickle, fleeting, heartless. She realized that was her true nature.
There was one more event that drove this realization home even more clearly: the time she was expelled from her birth family and taken in by the branch Frodaite household.
Back then, I don't think she had completely lost her passion for becoming stronger. Her birth family hadn't worked out, but maybe here she could chase after that old dream once more.
But—she gave up almost immediately.
Because Lucius was there.
The moment she saw him, she knew he was a monster. His overwhelming magic power, and the exquisitely refined technique that only someone who wielded the same sword could appreciate.
Even if she challenged him without magic, she wouldn't find a single opening. A genius of an entirely different caliber from her birth family—she was shown what the real thing looked like.
She realized at the same time why the Frodaite household had taken her in. With Lucius being far beyond the norm in every conceivable way, they wanted a
spare
in case something happened to him—for the sake of the family.
…Of course, she understood that this kind of ulterior motive was always entangled in the dealings of noble children. And knowing that, the Frodaite parents still treated her with tremendous warmth and affection.
Her brother Lucius, while perhaps a bit too much of a brute at times, was an impeccable and proud knight in character. He got along with her openly and naturally as a brother. She grew to love the people of the Frodaite household in no time at all.
But… precisely because of that.
Then it was fine, wasn't it? If these people were here, she could be the spare they wanted her to be.
She got closer to them, yet kept her distance. To avoid causing yet another tragedy born of closeness, she resigned herself to the role of the spare, the inferior one, and built a wall at the final boundary.
She couldn't find any further reason to push herself… not within her heart.
Not everyone can hold noble, grand ideals. Not everyone can cast everything aside and devote themselves to pursuing an ideal.
In fact, the people who can are a mere handful. Just as Niina had said before—for example, those who can participate in a "battle upon which the fate of the world hangs," those who can be the protagonist, are that tiny handful of people.
Most people… herself included, are not like that. Even when they're trying their hardest, the moment something painful comes along, their hearts break easily.
To give it your all, to risk your life, to stake everything on it—
A magnificent "wish" that everyone could agree on.
The people who can't have one… are the vast majority.
Growing from that point, coming to know this country.
Nina understood that truth with cruel clarity.
So. When she entered the academy and was assigned to Class B—
Watching her classmates suffer terrible treatment, watching them accept it, their eyes growing duller and duller as their minds warped... Nina felt, if anything, sympathy.
—It can't be helped, she thought.
—No one could be expected to keep fighting in such awful conditions.
And so she proactively went to comfort her classmates. She wrapped her thoughts in sweet platitudes—this is fine, just accept it—and made sure no one's heart got crushed between ideal and reality. Because she believed that was all she could do.
She listened and she empathized. ...Even I—back then, if I had truly possessed passion for the sword, I should have rejected my brother's hatred and simply forged ahead.
The reason she couldn't do that was simply because that wasn't the kind of person she was.
And people like her made up the vast majority of the world. They were the norm.
Those "ordinary" people had no choice but to go with the flow, just as they always had.
She delivered her resigned thoughts wrapped in sweet words—thinking it can't be helped—and by tending to each other's wounds, she protected their hearts. And her own.
............But. In truth.
This version of herself, this weak self who couldn't keep trying—at the very bottom of her heart, she found it utterly, bitterly detested.
That was precisely why.
People like Katia, who wished to be a more proud and noble aristocrat than anyone else, and who pressed forward undaunted even in the face of extraordinary adversity.
Or Sarah, who seemed to be swept along but actually harbored strong, lofty ideals within her heart—ideals even she herself hadn't noticed.
And above all—
Someone like herself, expected to have a brilliant future. Yet resented by her family for that very talent, and cast out of her home because of her Bloodline Magic.
And yet, even so—Ermes, who had refused to break the way she had, who had charged headlong into what she believed in from the very start and come back, then proceeded to destroy, like a storm, everything she had accepted as unavoidable.
To her eyes, it shone with overwhelming brilliance.
The heat she had forgotten—the warmth that should have vanished—it felt as though it had been kindled once more. And it had.
This was Nina's past arc. I'd be grateful if you'd continue watching over her to see what lies ahead for a girl who can't keep pushing forward.
I'm sorry for dragging things out a bit, but next time we're planning to reveal the secrets behind the brainwashing!
Also, I have one book-related announcement!
I had the opportunity to write a special short story—details are in my activity report, so please check it out if you're interested!