The most valued trait in the Ravenscourt family was their “eyes.”
The eyes bestowed upon the Ravenscourt family at birth were incomparable to any other talent.
From the ability to see through objects to possessing reflexes several times faster than others, their eyes were extraordinary.
Their beauty was merely a bonus.
However, this also meant that successors without those eyes were deemed insignificant.
Because of those eyes alone, Charlotte was scorned from the moment she was born.
Having suffered an unfortunate accident, Charlotte was born with burns around her eyes.
Even her remaining eye was nothing special.
The expression her mother made when Charlotte first opened her eyes was neither happiness nor joy.
It was a look of disdain, bordering on disgust.
Charlotte didn’t realize she was hated until she turned ten.
Until then, she thought the sharp gazes of her siblings were just normal.
They simply didn’t smile at her.
Sometimes, she wondered if it was because of her appearance.
While the family members all had bluish eyes, Charlotte’s eyes were a deep, intense red.
But as she grew older, Charlotte slowly began to realize the truth.
Everyone hated her.
The cold tone of voice when they spoke to her, the way they treated her differently.
At one point, she wondered if it was because of her lack of skill in swordsmanship, so she devoted herself even more to training.
Unfortunately, her skills didn’t improve much. Renowned professors and skilled knights were all insufficient to teach her.
Yet, even as a child, Charlotte’s swordsmanship far surpassed that of any ordinary child.
She poured the world she saw with her own eyes into her sword.
Moreover, the symbols that began to appear on the back of her hand were unusual.
The lines traced by her sword as a child seemed to anticipate her opponent’s movements, or perhaps they were unnecessary—but to the untrained eye, it might have seemed like her unique style.
However, it was actually the flow of mana that young Charlotte had seen.
If she had been born with the mark of a hero, it was only natural that she would experience an affinity for mana.
The fact that she could visualize it meant that the mark of the hero was growing stronger within her.
She had always been told she was a hero, but the responses she received were always cold.
All the heroes of the past had been born with blue eyes.
Her eyes were special in their own way.
In a family that valued tradition, she would never be recognized as a hero.
Thus, she was never trained in the ways of a hero.
Charlotte had been bestowed the most noble mark, but unfortunately, she was born with qualities that didn’t align with it.
The power granted by the mark of the hero was divided into three categories: wisdom, magic, and martial prowess.
The abilities one received were heavily influenced by lineage.
Of course, the Ravenscourt family, known for their swordsmanship, focused on martial prowess, but Charlotte was different.
She hated swordsmanship.
Charlotte simply wanted friends.
She liked people.
She enjoyed running around the estate, gazing at the moon, and sometimes imagining her future partner.
But no one ever approached her. She waited her whole life, but not once did anyone come to her.
Thus, she lived with a sword in hand, but unfortunately, born with unsettling eyes that weren’t special, she was merely an object of disdain.
“One-eyed freak, one-eyed freak.”
The term always followed her.
Every time, she would glance at the hideous burn scar on her pale face.
The painful wound hidden beneath her long hair.
Despite it all, she trained diligently in swordsmanship.
Charlotte made an eyepatch out of black cloth to cover one eye.
Even as the family’s torment grew harsher.
Even as her imperfect swordsmanship was ridiculed.
Even when someone deliberately took her sword and threw it into the river.
Even as rumors spread that her eerie red eyes were a stain on the family’s honor.
Charlotte endured without a flicker of emotion.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t suffering. She simply had no choice but to endure.
She had once dreamed of becoming famous, of making her name known across the continent.
She had been filled with the will to strive.
Over the years, she had tried countless times to find that person.
But no matter how hard Charlotte tried, it was all in vain.
Those who approached her always had ulterior motives, and after more than a decade of struggling, she had half given up.
She had broken her own pride and accepted the truth.
That she would never be able to connect with anyone.
With the excuse that she just needed to wait a little longer.
But not long after, the Ravenscourt territory began to stir with the winds of war.
The war seemed never-ending.
As a member of the family, Charlotte was forced to participate in the war and take up her sword.
///
Her life on the battlefield was akin to hell.
Though her skills were unbelievable for someone who had only held a sword for less than ten years, she was ultimately inexperienced.
The acrid stench of blood and fire assaulted her nose.
Dizziness swept over her, followed by a pounding headache.
The trouble wasn’t just around her.
“Ugh…”
Charlotte was exhausted.
She had been swinging her sword without rest.
At her feet lay countless corpses, but the number of enemies charging from all sides seemed twice as many.
One enemy seized an opening, grabbing her long hair and pulling her down.
Charlotte, her eyes barely open, struggled fiercely, but her elbows only cut through empty air.
As she was about to collapse, she grabbed a dagger at her feet and stabbed the enemy in the back of the neck.
He died in her arms.
At her limit, she threw the now lifeless body aside.
Soon, she fell backward.
Enemies began to close in around her.
There was no reinforcement to save her.
“…”
Then, suddenly, a chilling cold swept over her body.
As she took a breath, she could feel the icy air piercing to her bones.
‘…I’m lonely.’
The moment she thought of herself as lonely, Charlotte was startled to the point of her eyes widening.
Loneliness, solitude… These emotions were familiar.
She had lived with these feelings all her life, and they were familiar. It was normal.
At some point, she had given up on soothing this loneliness.
However, the loneliness she felt just now was something entirely new to her.
At the same time, she saw her own face, left alone on the battlefield.
The faces of her siblings also came to mind, but she quickly erased them.
Charlotte was now, for the first time in a long while, thinking, ‘I wish someone was by my side.’
Not just anyone.
The affection she had longed for.
When she thought about it, Charlotte was just a girl.
She wasn’t a hero. She had no reason to bear such responsibility, and in fact, she had been neglected by everyone.
Moreover, Charlotte was still young.
She needed attention and affection even more.
She felt the sword in her hand growing heavier. In this situation, Charlotte regretted.
She regretted it.
She regretted wasting her time on the sword, thinking that if she did so, she might be loved.
‘…I wanted to see…’
Just once,
Anyone… just one person…
Really, just one person is like a hero.
The wish in her hand grew stronger.
The more she wished, the more her mind became chaotic.
Soon, she would face death.
Then, a complex memory flashed through her mind.
‘You’ll live in pain and die in misery.’
‘You were born with a half-blind eye. Just die quietly.’
The moment those words echoed, in the depths of despair, Charlotte felt something boiling within her for the first time.
And she parted her blood-stained lips.
“I… tried hard… so… appear.”
It was a cry filled with resentment.
Even though no one had ever come before, and the situation was dire, it was the only thing left for her as she stood on the brink of death.
‘Do you know why the hero who will save you hasn’t come?’
‘Princesses don’t act like that. You’re just staring like a madwoman, not even showing any desperation.’
‘You don’t even show any will. You have to show it outwardly for them to know. Do you think they’ll come to you like that? Huh?’
As those thoughts passed, she reached out into the air.
If you appear… I’ll truly cherish you.
So, just once.
“Please, save me…”
She barely opened her eyes and called out.
But nothing changed.
All she saw were the terrifying blades of the enemy.
“Kukuku, are you going to beg before you die?”
The enemy’s sword was raised high.
“Appear.”
“Huh, is this the end?”
Just before the blade fell, the enemy’s sword stopped mid-air.
Thinking it was truly the end, Charlotte, for the first time, called out while revealing the mark on the back of her hand.
“…My… hero.”
Then.
Though her vision was obscured, she could clearly see someone entering the battlefield.
At the same time, a figure swept across the battlefield.
It was neither a member of the Ravenscourt family nor an enemy.
It was simply
“I’m here.”
A tall man with black eyes,
Her hero.
Yujin.
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