Chapter 2: I’ll Make Her Come Back Obediently!

The next day, in a tavern within the royal capital of Rodel, the rumors had already taken on a life of their own.

“Did you hear? The kingdom’s only S-rank party, Rainbow Covenant, finally kicked out that useless freeloader!”

“They say she was still F-rank—total nepotism case.”

“Hey, watch your mouth. She’s the daughter of the Marquis Raven, the War Marquis. He’s been stacking victories nonstop in recent years—His Majesty holds him in high regard!”

“With such a heroic father, how did he end up with such a disappointing daughter?”

“Lion mother, puppy daughter. Happens.”

“And rumor has it she’s into girls. Kept creeping on the other members.”

The moment Irene left Rainbow Covenant, the gossip had spread like wildfire through every street and alley of the capital.

At that moment, Irene was lying in bed at the marquis’ estate, looking half-dead.

It was nothing serious—just a cold and fever from walking in the rainstorm.

She was rolling a die in her hand, tossing it up and catching it, again and again.

Whatever number she wished to roll, it landed on it precisely.

That was her one and only talent.

The party’s early funds?

All won by Irene hustling through every gambling den in the capital, one by one.

Now, of course, Irene had been blacklisted from every casino in the kingdom.

They suspected her of cheating.

There was no proof, of course, but—Who wins every single bet?

Ten golds out of ten pulls at a 0.1% chance? Seriously?

“Why am I so useless…”

Sitting by the window, Irene stared out at the heavy rain still pouring down over the capital.

It had been going for two straight days and nights, with no signs of stopping.

“So this is the limit set by an innate skill, huh…?”

“‘Miracle Weaver,’ huh? The description only says one thing—‘Brave girl, go forth and create miracles.’
It’s as vague and useless as Shinji freaking Ikari.”

She muttered to herself.

Yes—Irene was a transmigrator.

In her previous life, she was a light novel editor who died slumped over her keyboard.

And her gender?

Of course—she’d been a cute blue boy!

So it was perfectly understandable that her teammates misread her “preferences.”

In this world, there was a clear power system.

And what determined a person’s ceiling… was their innate skill.

Take her childhood friend Serena, for example—her talent was…

‘All critical damage bonuses from equipment and skills are increased by 100%, and base crit damage is also increased by 100%.’

Serena’s innate skill did have one “severe” side effect… though Irene couldn’t quite remember what it was.

Because honestly—with buffs like that, who cares?

This was why her childhood friend Serena had become the Strongest Sword Saint.

Crit damage in the thousands, every slash a blazing strike—who could possibly withstand that?!

But Irene?

All she had was the utterly useless-sounding “Miracle Weaver.”

It sounded impressive… but Irene had never once seen it activate.

The only upside?

She always managed to steal her teammates’ clothes without a hitch.

Just like now—she had an entire bedspread laid out with their freshly changed clothes.

Only with the sweet citrus scent of her friends lingering in the air could she finally get some decent sleep.

‘They all smell so good… (╯▽╰ )~~’

Honestly, just leaving the party like that did feel like a waste.

But if she hadn’t… what else could she have done?

She was nothing but a weakling with the combat power of wet tissue.

Just like in the battle against the Lion Warlock—she’d been utterly useless.

All she could do was toss them some barrier scrolls, then sit back with popcorn and shout encouragement from the sidelines.

“Aiya, Reigliff, what’s going on with your aggro control? That Lion Warlock just threw trash at me, and I didn’t even land a hit on it!”

“Rosewither, heal! Where’s your big heal, huh!? Can’t you see the DPS is about to keel over!?”

“If Serena didn’t get lucky and land 5 crits in a row with ‘Meteor Slash’, all of you would’ve been toast!”

Looking back now… it was completely normal for her teammates to get mad.

I mean, could you put up with a useless noble lady in the rear line eating snacks and making commentary while you fought for your life?

But what else could Irene do?

She was F-rank. Her combat power was literally 5.

Her attacks against the Lion Warlock only ever did a forced 1 damage—not even enough to break its defense!

She could only hope that now she was gone, they’d find a stronger support.

Rainbow Covenant was already S-rank…

Maybe this would be the step they needed to reach the top of the continent.

Irene would be at home, cheering them on quietly.

Because—after all—she was never a real teammate to begin with.

But still… still…

As Irene drifted off in the middle of her thoughts, a maid suddenly burst in, looking flustered.

She seemed like she had something urgent to report, but the moment her eyes landed on the “orange scene” spread out across the room…her words completely disappeared from her mind.

‘Pa! Pa! Pa!’

The sharp sound of slaps echoed rhythmically, accompanied by Irene’s gut-wrenching screams.

In the end, what finally saved Irene was a formal invitation from the royal palace—

“To celebrate the triumphant return of the Marquis, His Majesty the King has arranged a grand banquet at the palace. The Marquis and his esteemed daughter are both requested to attend punctually!”

After all, family scandals shouldn’t be aired in public.

Only then did the Marquis finally stop his assault, smiling cheerfully as he went to receive the royal envoy.

Maid Layla peeked into her lady’s room and immediately hissed through her teeth, drawing a sharp breath.

As expected of the Marquis… she thought to herself.

He really didn’t hold back.

Irene was sprawled out, her body aching and battered. Her face had swollen, and her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Too harsh… I must not be his biological daughter…”

*****

Inside a tavern, cloaked in the continuing curtain of rain, Serena slowly sipped her tea.

“Serena, isn’t this going a bit too far? Shouldn’t we just ask her to come back already? We’re teammates—there’s no need to go this far.”

Sage Helga sat across from her, frowning slightly as she listened to the bard nearby dramatically retelling the latest rumors. She couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

That’s right—all the rumors were spread by Serena’s order.

Coming from former teammates, they held undeniable credibility.

“Ask her to come back? It’s not like we didn’t try to stop her. Did it work?”

Reigliff responded with a shrug.

Rosewither quietly cupped her tea, saying nothing.

They all knew it—Serena cared more about Irene than anyone else.

But she also had the most pride… and was stubborn to the core.

This fight was no longer about right or wrong—it was about principle.

“What’s the rush?” Serena said coldly.

“Even if we invite her back now, she’ll just leave again. I’m going to make sure she learns the hard way—no other team will ever take her in.”

She downed the last of her tea in one gulp, her crimson eyes blazing like wildfire.

“I’ll make her come crawling back on her own!”

“Never once felt happy being part of the party,” huh?

Serena grit her teeth.

Is that something a person says!? I’m going to explode!