"The arrogant and slothful brat, Claym Bradley, has reformed."

—Such a rumor quickly reached my ears. I am the second daughter of the Greyfrost family, with the succession of the house entrusted to my elder sister, five years my senior. My role was to act as a bridge, forging horizontal ties with other nobles to deepen familial bonds. By the time I was five years old, I already had a fiancé.

That fiancé was none other than Claym Bradley, the heir to a marquessate—a man whose name was constantly followed by rumors of an unusual quietness lately.

When I first heard such rumors, I dismissed them with a scoff, thinking, “Surely not.” There was no way that egotistical man, who seemed to have been born without any sense of empathy or compassion, could possibly change. Convinced it was nonsense, I expected his true colors to reveal themselves soon. Yet, all I continued to hear were stories of his transformation.

“Now he’s diligently training.”
“He no longer treats his servants cruelly.”
“He’s begun cherishing his family.”

It was all too implausible, too absurd to believe. Yet, what infuriated me most was not just the content of these stories but the way they were celebrated as if they were unprecedented achievements.

“Diligent training?”
That’s only natural. Born into nobility, one is expected to fulfill their duties, and daily effort is nothing but ordinary.

“Kindness to servants?”
That, too, is a given. Thanks to them, we live our lives free of hardship. They are the ones who support us at our core, and they deserve our utmost respect.

“Cherishing family?”
This is the most basic of all expectations. Blood ties bind us, and family showers us with love and unconditional care.

This is ridiculous.

Every time I heard these tales about him, I felt my anger boil over, nausea rising.

These are all common, natural things. Yet, how is it that someone who had never done them of his own accord now gets praised simply because he has decided to start doing so? I couldn’t understand.

That’s why I decided to see for myself.

I was convinced it was just a whim or that there was some ulterior motive behind his change. Certain of this, I resolved to scrutinize Claym Bradley, visiting his estate for the first time in nearly a year.

“You, who made such a fuss about never wanting to see him, now wish to visit? What’s come over you?”

“I want to assess him.”

When I pleaded with my father to let me accompany him under the guise of assisting with his work, he was understandably shocked. After all, the destination was the Bradley estate.

Normally, I would have avoided that place at all costs. From the moment I first met that man, I had nothing but unpleasant experiences.

I still vividly remember the words he said when we first met—words I could never forget.

“What’s with this pale girl? She’s creepy.”

I was stunned. Born with skin, eyes, and hair that were unnaturally pale—almost sickly white—I had long been regarded as unsettling by those around me. Children my age avoided me because of my appearance, but never had anyone voiced their disdain so bluntly in my presence, without a hint of malice, yet utterly devoid of tact.

In that moment, I instinctively knew: “I’ll never get along with this person.”

From then on, every encounter with him was filled with mockery, derision, and relentless teasing. Initially, I had tried to get along, thinking he was someone I’d share half my life with. But by our third meeting, even that faint hope had vanished.

A man so vile, so encapsulating all that was despicable in the world—how could I possibly believe in his so-called reformation?

“Welcome, Lady Freesia. It is truly an honor to have you visit our home today. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Yet the man I saw before me had indeed transformed into someone entirely different. His demeanor and speech were calm, his mannerisms refined, his attitude gentle. Even his physique seemed more robust, likely a result of his newfound commitment to training. I could scarcely believe my eyes.

“Brother!”

“—!”

What shocked me most was his newfound affection for his younger sister, Alice, whom he had previously treated as a nuisance. When she chose to sit by his side at tea, I thought I must be dreaming.

“My favorite spot these days is right by my brother!”

“What!?”

I couldn’t believe it—I didn’t want to believe it. So, I decided I’d rescue Alice from this demon’s clutches. I’d expose the fraud hiding beneath his virtuous façade.

“Fight me in a duel!”

I was confident I would win. The thought of losing to someone who had previously made no effort to improve himself never crossed my mind.

“Do you still wish to continue?”

The result, however, was a crushing defeat. I was utterly overpowered. It was humiliating. But what stung the most wasn’t the loss itself—it was the fact that he held back.

“…I concede.”

He didn’t even use his wooden sword. He defeated me with a flick of his finger, as though I were a child. Rage and shame consumed me, but what I couldn’t forgive most was how weak I felt—so weak that even he had to go easy on me.

In that moment, I made a vow.

I would never forgive him for his past wrongs, and my anger would remain. But first and foremost, I resolved to become stronger than him—no matter what.

This determination led me to devote myself to self-improvement, and I believed I had made progress. Yet, no matter how hard I trained, I couldn’t surpass him. The gap only widened.

“Why…!?”

Consumed by frustration, I insisted on joining the knights’ outdoor training program. Yet, I found myself utterly outmatched.

“Fall back, Freesia! You’re in the way!”

My inexperience, the unfamiliar environment, and the tension of facing magical beasts rendered me little more than a burden.

It was frustrating, humiliating. Had I not been in the same unit as Lord Feid, someone as inexperienced as me would undoubtedly have perished. I was entirely unfit for the challenges of this setting.

“Are you okay, Sister?”

“This much... is nothing at all...”

By evening, my confidence had evaporated. What stung the most wasn’t merely my weakness—it was my inability to accurately gauge my own abilities, leading to such arrogance.

“This is no different from him...”

And yet, he had managed to gain enough skill to earn Lord Feid’s recognition. Now, he was the only one among the knights participating in the training, enduring survival exercises in the forest. This fact only made me feel more flustered and infuriated.

“I understand the urge to rush, but what Lady Freesia needs most right now is to take a step back and calmly assess the situation,” Lord Feid said suddenly.

Before I realized it, the sun had fully set, and the night had arrived. Despite being exhausted, I couldn’t sleep and found myself staring at the campfire alone when he approached with these words.

“I don’t have time for that...”

“There’s always time. Lady Freesia, you’re still young—far too young. What’s the rush?”

I reflexively shot back, but Lord Feid pressed on with his words. Unable to retort, I kept silent as he gazed nostalgically into the fire.

“I understand the desire to push forward; in fact, I know it well... But that’s precisely why I must tell you this—you’re living too recklessly. Your chosen rival, being who he is, makes the disparity in strength seem daunting. But rest assured, Lady Freesia, you’ll catch up to him someday.”

“...Really?”

“Yes. Not now, but in the not-so-distant future... With consistent training, you’ll close the gap in a matter of years—maybe even surpass him.”

His words, which I hadn’t expected, sank deep into my heart, soothing my earlier frustrations.

“Each person has their own unique qualities. That’s only natural, isn’t it? The speed at which one grows stronger differs from person to person as well. He may be a bit of an outlier, but you have more than enough talent, Lady Freesia.”

I found myself completely captivated. I hung onto every word he said, determined not to miss a single one.

“So don’t rush.”

“Understood...”

After all, this advice came from none other than one of the Seven Peerless Swords. I unconsciously began to form a question for Lord Feid, but—

“Ambush! Monsters have suddenly appeared!!”

A shout cut through the night, drowning out my thoughts. One of the knights we had been working with throughout the day ran up to us, visibly shaken.

“What?! But the protective wards should have been in place—what kind of monsters are they?!”

The situation seemed urgent, as even Lord Feid’s voice carried an unusual tension. The knight hesitated before reluctantly responding.

“Servants of the Seven Dragons—Shadow Drake and its kin! The daughter of the Bradley family, who was with us, has been taken by them!!”

“What did you say?!”

“Huh?”

That night, Alice was suddenly taken away by a servant of the Seven Dragons, the Shadow Drake, which loomed over the world.