Felicia de Offen was, without a doubt, the greatest swordswoman in the history of House Offen, a family renowned for its mastery of the sword.
She had earned countless merits on the battlefield, been granted the title of Sword Duke by the God of War, and her name had spread far and wide, even beyond the borders of her homeland, as a source of pride for Pendragon.
Considering how rare it was for female knights to be remembered by history, it was clear that Felicia stood as the most iconic figure among all female knights on the continent.
She had proven with her very existence that even as a woman, one could become an exceptional knight. She had demonstrated that it was possible to achieve greatness.
Historians were already certain that her name would be spoken of for thousands—no, perhaps tens of thousands—of years to come, as a legendary female knight.
The first female Aura User in history. A swordswoman of unparalleled greatness.
...And yet.
“Did you know? There was a time when I was called the ‘disgrace of House Offen’ and ‘the most talentless, incompetent swordsman in the family.’”
“I do. I read the fairy tale.”
“Heh, and how did they describe me there?”
“...They called you a ‘foolish knight.’”
“Foolish, huh... Heh, that’s quite a generous way to put it. There were times when people called me an idiot worse than a goblin.”
“...Which bastard said that?”
“Ah, calm down. It’s all in the past. And honestly, back then, it wasn’t entirely wrong.”
...Because she truly had been a swordswoman less useful than a goblin.
“......”
Her voice carried a bitter self-mockery, and Ihan chose to remain silent instead of responding.
Experience had taught him that this was not the time to offer meaningless comfort or pretend to understand.
And sure enough.
“Heh, thank you. For listening to the ramblings of an old woman.”
Felicia chuckled softly, perhaps grateful to have someone to hear her out. Ihan merely shrugged, as if to say it was no big deal.
“I’m just listening, nothing to be thankful for. Besides, as a fan of the fairy tale, hearing about your past is pretty interesting.”
“...Would you stop bringing up the fairy tale?”
“Instead of that, why don’t you keep talking? Now that we’ve started, let’s hear the whole story.”
“...I can’t tell if you’re just diligent or if you’re just messing with me...”
Felicia shook her head in exasperation at his reaction.
And yet...
“Well then, let’s see how long you can endure the ramblings of this old woman, heh.”
There was a glimmer of joy in her eyes at having someone sincerely willing to listen.
***
Felicia de Offen, 80 years ago, had not only been treated coldly within her own family—she had been outright scorned.
In The Female Knight Series, Volume 1, her hardships were only lightly touched upon as moments of adversity and loneliness. But even that was a sanitized version of reality; the truth was that her treatment had been downright miserable.
“At the time, House Offen was in crisis. Constant wars had drained our resources, our merchant fleets collapsed, and even our disciples abandoned us. The family was on the brink of ruin. And then, in such a dire situation, the heir born into the direct bloodline turned out to have no talent for the sword.”
House Offen was one of the few noble houses in the South where both men and women were equally eligible to inherit the title of family head.
Since Felicia was an only child, it was a given that she would become the next head of the family. The only hope was that, even if she had a flawed personality, she would at least be an exceptional swordsman.
There was no reason to worry.
No one in the bloodline of House Offen had ever lacked talent in the sword.
And yet...
“She’s still at that level?”
“What? It’s been five years since she first held a sword, and she still performs basic swordsmanship like that? Ha! I have no words.”
“...Are we sure she’s actually his daughter?”
Disappointment turned into betrayal.
Shock turned into suspicion and doubt.
Frustration turned into outright rage.
The senior members of House Offen had said every cruel and unspeakable thing they could think of.
That was how abysmal Felicia’s talent was.
In the end, people even began whispering that she wasn’t truly of the Offen bloodline, that perhaps her mother had been unfaithful.
...Fortunately, the head of the family at the time wasn’t delusional or paranoid enough to believe such nonsense. He severely punished those who spread the rumors.
But still...
“Felicia.”
“Yes, Father.”
“...Do nothing.”
“......”
“I have no more expectations of you. How can you be fifteen years old and still wield a sword like that...? Hah! I should consider having more children or looking for a successor from the branch families.”
“......”
“...Tsk.”
Even her own father, overwhelmed with disappointment, could not hide his disdain toward her.
From Felicia’s perspective, it was beyond unfair.
It wasn’t as if she had chosen to be talentless. And yet, just because she lacked skill in the sword, her family and peers treated her with contempt and outright hatred.
...But this was simply the reality of that era.
“In those days, ‘talent’ was everything. The late king valued talent above social class—he would elevate the gifted regardless of their background. Likewise, even if someone was born into a noble family, if they lacked talent, they would never be given a chance to rise. Because of that, noble families desperately wanted their children to be exceptional. And if they weren’t, disappointment was an understatement.”
“...That’s insane.”
“That was just how the world worked. Our family wasn’t even the worst. At the very least, they didn’t starve or kill me.”
“W-Wait, are you saying there were places that actually...?”
“There were extremists like that. Well, they ended up catching the late king’s attention, which led to a bloody purge across the kingdom.”
“......”
“I can’t really blame the late king for that. He likely never imagined that nobles—so-called civilized people—would resort to such barbarism.”
“...What the hell...”
Felicia had grown up in an era where being untalented meant being treated as less than human.
For the children of warrior families, lacking martial talent was considered shameful, a disgrace worthy of public scorn.
Many young noble heirs, overwhelmed by their families’ disappointment, took their own lives.
And the nobles? They called it ‘honorable.’ They praised it as ‘knowing their duty.’
To them, bringing shame upon their family was so disgraceful that dying was the more ‘noble’ choice.
It was the most idiotic, utterly asinine nonsense Ihan had ever heard.
“There was even a senior in my family who seriously advised me to commit suicide.”
“...What happened to that bastard?”
“Heh. When I became an Aura User, he ended up killing himself. Apparently, he left behind a pathetic little letter admitting his mistake... but I’ve long since forgotten his name.”
“...Tch. He got off easy.”
“Oh my, thank you for being angry on my behalf.”
“No, I’m serious. He got off easy. If he had done that in front of me, I’d have made sure he didn’t die so quickly.”
“...Child, I must ensure I never become your enemy.”
Felicia had faced relentless malice, growing up in an environment so cruel it could only be described as hellish.
Most people in her situation would have broken long ago, taking the so-called ‘honorable’ route that the nobles so admired.
But not Felicia.
“...Yet, I never really cared about their insults.”
“......”
“And stop looking at me like that. It’s not as if I enjoyed being insulted!”
“...I didn’t say anything.”
“Your eyes say otherwise! Really, you...”
Despite enduring endless scorn and a nightmarish childhood, Felicia had never given up on life.
And the reason?
Well, it wasn’t anything special...
“I simply loved the sword. Almost to the point of obsession.”
Felicia de Offen.
The so-called talentless fool forsaken by the sword.
The most incompetent and hopeless swordsman in history.
And yet, despite that assessment, she loved the sword.
It was ironic.
If she had been scorned and ridiculed for lacking talent in swordsmanship, it would have made sense for her to resent the sword.
When someone puts in endless effort but sees no results, it’s only natural for them to grow to hate what they’re struggling against.
But Felicia defied that logic—she loved the sword unconditionally and chased after it with relentless passion.
Every single day, she swung her blade, never once stopping.
By the time she turned twenty-three, an age when most noblewomen would have been expected to marry, she had neither a fiancé nor any interest in romance.
Instead, she left for the battlefield.
To perfect the swordsmanship she had spent her entire life dreaming of.
Everyone was certain she would be the first to die in battle.
With such poor talent, how could she possibly survive?
And yet—
“F-Felicia’s here!!”
“Run! It’s the Demon of the Battlefield...!”
—It took less than two years for their expectations to be completely shattered.
Felicia may have had no talent for the sword, but she was someone who simply did not know how to give up.
For decades, she had been neglected, shunned, and despised by her own family, yet as long as she had her sword, she remained unbroken.
In other words, she possessed an indomitable will.
She had the courage to never surrender, no matter the circumstances.
Of course, courage alone wasn’t enough to survive in war.
But she had a ‘talent’ even she wasn’t aware of.
“Felicia, was it? I’ve witnessed your bravery. I’d be honored to have you as a comrade.”
“At the very least, you’re no coward.”
“Ah, do you know Baltar? He’s joining our unit soon. The God of War himself acknowledged his talent—seems like someone worth keeping an eye on.”
Strong Luck.
Felicia was an extraordinarily lucky person.
She befriended the young heroes of her time, long before they made a name for themselves.
They recognized her reckless bravery and, rather than dismissing her, chose to support her.
With such powerful allies by her side, she survived countless near-death encounters—not just dozens, but tens of thousands of times.
And eventually, she became strong.
Even someone completely lacking in talent, if they survived thousands upon thousands of life-or-death battles while training with the sword, would inevitably grow stronger.
By the time she reached her forties, she had become one of the most renowned knights in the South.
At this point, she had earned enough merit and fame to return home as a triumphant hero.
But she did not.
Instead, she made a different choice.
“There would have been no progress if I returned to the family. For someone without talent like me, the only way to grow stronger was through hardship—through suffering, through the crucible of war and the trials of the wild. It was reckless, but I was convinced that such trials would sharpen my sword.”
So she left the South and traveled across the continent.
She went east, west, and even north, exploring all lands except the central region.
She faced countless hardships.
She nearly died at sea.
She nearly died in the mountains.
She nearly died in forests and volcanoes.
She nearly died from monsters, the cold, and natural disasters.
And yet, she survived.
It was during this time that the man who would become her partner in adventure—and later, her husband—made this remark:
“You have a ridiculous amount of luck when it comes to survival.”
“I amaze even myself sometimes.”
The Woman Who Would Not Die.
By this point, the entire continent began calling her Felicia the Undying.
Had she wandered for just a little longer, she might have forged even greater legends.
But she was unexpectedly forced to return home.
The reason?
“I had a child.”
With the birth of her and her husband’s child, her journey came to an end.
Yet, even after returning home, the world refused to leave her alone.
She had become a living legend, an unstoppable knight whose fame had spread across the continent—even the royal family couldn’t afford to ignore her anymore.
And so—
“From this day forth, you shall be known as Sword Duke. This is a title that belongs to you and you alone. Even the royal family shall not be allowed to slight you.”
The greatest king in history—praised as a god among men—acknowledged her might, granting her a singular, unprecedented title.
At this point, she had considered abandoning the Offen name and requesting the God of War to establish a new noble house in her name.
But then—
“...I’m sorry.”
“......”
“I know that a mere apology can never make up for everything. I know it doesn’t erase the suffering you endured. But still—I beg you. I will kneel, I will give you everything I have, I will do whatever it takes. Please, save our family.”
“...Father.”
Her father knelt before her, addressing her with formal speech.
He was no longer speaking to her as his daughter.
He was speaking to someone far greater than himself—acknowledging her overwhelming superiority.
She felt countless emotions at that moment.
It would be a lie to say she held no resentment.
It would be a lie to say she felt no hatred toward the retainers who tormented her.
She had survived solely because of her sword, but the people who had made her childhood a living hell were all right before her.
“...The noble council will erase our names from history.”
“...What?”
Even so, she ultimately chose to return home.
“...Are you an idiot?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, why did you go back? You could’ve just declared independence and lived your best life.”
“...Do you not understand what it means for nobles to be erased from the council’s records?”
“What does it mean?”
“It means losing all honor and authority. It means being erased from history itself. They were willing to inflict a punishment worse than death upon themselves... I couldn’t allow myself to be a petty woman who only held onto resentment.”
“Pfft. So what if you were petty? Nobles really are something else, huh? Tsk.”
“A-Are you seriously criticizing me right now? This was a deeply significant—”
One way or another, Felicia returned to her family and took up the mantle of leadership.
With her name carved into history by her own hands, who would dare oppose her?
And then, as if her battlefield luck extended beyond just herself—
“He’s a genius... A prodigy among prodigies!”
Her son, Iliad de Offen, turned out to be an unparalleled genius.
So much so that even the history of House Offen had never seen such talent.
By the age of five, Iliad had mastered all fundamental sword techniques within three months, throwing the family into a frenzy.
They claimed he would surpass even Felicia herself.
And even she couldn’t help but acknowledge it.
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Her son would undoubtedly become the greatest swordsman of all.
“My son will be greater than me. I’m sure of it!”
A child loved by the sword itself.
He would surely grow into an incredible knight.
Unlike her, he had an overwhelming abundance of talent.
And as if to prove that, Iliad became an undefeated swordsman even in his teenage years.
Felicia, seeing this, made a decision—
“You will lead this family better than I ever could.”
“Mother?”
“You are greater than I am. So you will be fine.”
—And with that, she retired.
***
“Wait. You handed over the headship of the family to a child?”
“......”
“How old was he, exactly?”
“...Fif...teen.”
“...Excuse me?”
“...Fifteen.”
“......”
“...D-Don’t look at me like that.”
“......”
Ihan felt a sharp headache coming on.