Chapter 1: Warrior Maiden in Wonderland

Before I knew it, I was crying.

A man is not supposed to cry, no matter how painful or sorrowful things get. But I cried anyway, far beyond my own conscious restraint, as though pulling the sound from the depths of my gut.

"──S… ───Eris, she’s born. A healthy… baby girl…"

"I see. I would’ve preferred a boy first, but… it can’t be helped. We need to start thinking of a name… Hurry, let me see her too!"

"However… no… my lady, it was your first childbirth. For now, rest. There’s no need to decide immediately…"

A woman’s voice, words I had never heard before, echoed in the darkness.

(I should have died from illness… Is this the land of the dead?)

Exhausted from crying, I was shaken roughly, gasping for air, as I desperately searched through my already hazy memories.

I had been sickly from birth, and my life was filled with little else but lying bedridden or swinging a bamboo sword. I was a failure, unable even to appear before others as a son, let alone carry on the family line. And yet, my mother was always kind to me.

The house I was born into and the duties it bore, my way of life as a samurai, the things I was meant to learn, the people I was meant to serve — my mother, endlessly patient, taught them all to me, even though I was slow to remember anything. But to me, they all felt like bedtime tales — something I could never reach.

Everything was too far away for me. Even just holding a bamboo sword was a struggle, and I could hardly swing it the way I was taught. The "duty" my mother spoke of was far, far beyond my grasp.

──And so, without fulfilling any of my duties or meeting any expectations, I died shamefully… just before my coming-of-age ceremony.

(If there truly is a cycle of rebirth… then please, let me live a life this time where I can fulfill my role…)

"Edith! I’m heading out again today! You make sure to work hard, just as Ghislaine taught you!"

"Yes, mother."

Edithe Greyrat. That is my new name.

My mother is Eris, my father is Rudeus (though I’ve never met him), and my master is Ghislaine. (She makes a bitter face whenever I call her "nanny".)

I was definitely dead. Dead, and thinking I’d crossed into the underworld — but it seems I was reborn as the daughter of some foreign warrior family. Learning the language was… incredibly, incredibly difficult.

I’m three years old now, and I’m told I’ll turn four once April passes. (This country is so cold that it’s hard to even notice the changing of seasons.)

"Alright, Edith, before we start form drills today, we’ll warm up with a run."

"Yes, master."

I chased after Ghislaine, pumping my short little arms and legs as I ran desperately to keep up. Once this ended, form practice would begin.

Ghislaine is a silver-haired swordswoman with beastlike ears and a tail. She serves as a retainer to my current mother’s household, once teaching both mother and father the way of the sword — and now, she teaches me too.

When I first saw Mother and Ghislaine’s hair, I was stunned. A woman with blood-colored hair and a beastlike figure… they looked like nothing less than monsters to me. It seems this isn’t uncommon here, but back then, I didn’t understand the language and it took a long time to grow accustomed.

This body, though female, is remarkably sturdy. My mind is sharper, my vision clearer, and the more I train, the stronger I grow. In this land, women are even allowed to become swordsmen if they wish.

Honestly, I feel reluctant when they force me to rest so quickly — I want to train more.

However──

"I’m sorry, master."

"…I’ve told you many times, Edith. No — my lady. This isn’t something you need to apologize for, and your mother doesn’t mind it either. Do you doubt your master’s judgment?"

"N-no…"

"Then don’t worry. You’re without a doubt their child, and your father is a strong, broad-minded man. He’s not the kind of fool to doubt you just because of something as trivial as hair color."

My hair… it seems, is different. Neither like Father’s supposed brown nor Mother’s red.

If it were just different, that would be fine. But… it seems that in this life too, I’m considered a failure.

A cursed color. A demonic mark. I gripped the hat forced onto my head tightly, hiding my young-grass-green hair from the world.

『You’re the eldest sister, you know! When you meet Rudeus and gain little brothers and sisters, you’ll be the one to protect them!』

『Yes, mother!』

(But if simply showing my hair in public earns me screams and thrown stones… instead of protecting anyone, I’d only give them more enemies.)

"I… have to become stronger…!"

"Mm. That’s the spirit, Edith! Just grow strong enough that no one will dare speak against your hair color — you can do it!"

I have to become strong. Strong enough not to trouble Father or Mother. Strong enough that even if more enemies arise, none would dare lay a hand on me.

Because that… is the "duty" expected of me.