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I have never thought of myself as particularly exceptional.

On the contrary, if I may say so myself, I sometimes think there may be no one as clumsy and incomplete as I am. After all, the very foundation on which “I” stands is terribly fragile and unstable.

I still have faint memories of my past self—of “Syltianna,” once called the Ragweed Princess—but almost none of the emotions that came with them.

Instead, I ended up with memories and feelings from some other world, somewhere that isn’t here. But over time, even those were overwritten by the name “Jill” and the real experiences I lived.

That, in turn, was the result of taking away the path Syltianna was meant to walk—the shape her life was supposed to take.

I judged Syltianna’s circumstances and appearance and decided she was “unfortunate.” I used the words “this is how things ought to be” as a convenient excuse, ignoring her joys and happiness—her suffering and sorrow—and lived however I pleased.

And now, the person I am today is the product of that.

But lately, I’ve begun to wonder: even if what awaited her was pain, sadness, lamentation, or rage—that was still Syltianna’s life. No matter the justification, wasn’t it wrong of me to take it from her?

What I thought was for the best may have simply been arrogance—a grave insult to the Syltianna that once was.

If that’s the case… then I must be a sinner. A foolish clown.

♢♦♢♦♢

“Lady Clara shed her humanity ages ago! In fact, she is Beyond Humans! She’s nothing like Dolly Kadmons who degrade over generations of natural breeding, or the artificial saintesses who became unstable from having their specs pushed too far. Well, if anything, this proves that mere humans are too shallow and powerless before the mysteries of the great natural world!”

Coppelia puffed out her chest proudly, her eyes brimming with pure admiration—so clear and wide with awe, they were honestly a little terrifying—as she stared directly at me.

“Ridiculous…! A natural-born monster? There’s no way I can believe something so absurd…”

Eighette (temporary name) glared at me with eyes murky from a perfect cocktail of envy, despair, suspicion, and murderous intent.

One is an automaton sparked to life by an electric jolt, and the other is a homunculus born from a single cell split and grown in a soundless, lightless world. Both completely ignoring their own inhuman origins, both of them kept talking as if I were the only monster in the room.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait—hold on a second! That logic is completely flawed!”

Watching the nonsense story happily roll downhill without my input, I hurriedly stepped in between the two of them.

I mean… sure, I’ve been called all kinds of things before—Ragweed Princess, a speck of my mother’s nail dirt, the disgrace of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom—but this is the first time someone’s flat-out called me a monster to my face.

And the worst part? It came from someone who’s been by my side for nearly a year through thick and—well, now that I think back, it was mostly suffering and annoyance with her, and not many fond memories, was it…?

Anyway, coming from a comrade like that, the insult didn’t just make me mad—it sent me about three steps (or maybe fell three floors) down into the dark side.

Honestly, Coppelia’s just as much a pain as an enemy as she is useless as an ally… Actually, scratch that—she’s worse than useless, since she somehow always hits me with stray bullets from behind. She’s a complete liability.

If she were neutral, I could at least accept it. But actively negative? That’s a problem!

The onlookers all seemed to be having similar thoughts, judging by the weird, awkward silence that followed. The kind of silence that makes you feel like you’re watching a stage play where none of the actors are in sync.

“…I’ve said this many times, but I’m really not anyone special. If there’s anything unusual about me, it’s just that I can use a bit of Healing Art, a few other types of sorcery, and I’ve dabbled in martial arts and spirit techniques. But I’m nothing remarkable—just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill fourteen-year-old girl.”

““““THAT IS NOT WHAT ANYONE WOULD CALL ‘ORDINARY’!!””””

Suddenly, everyone who had been silently watching the scene jumped in at once to shut me down.

“—Huh? Then you’re saying I’m below average?”

I couldn’t help but look around and ask, only for everyone to boo me in unison and give a unanimous thumbs-down, as if it had been prearranged.

“How far are you planning to go, Lady Clara?! Trying to become some perfect superhuman Cross Bomber or something?!”

Coppelia trembled with disbelief.

“An ordinary human doesn’t just defeat a No-Life King on their own, even if it has been weakened…”

With a sigh, Cestlavie chimed in too—though his words felt like he was quietly admitting that I wasn’t really human, which didn’t sit right with me.

Amidst this increasingly dangerous conversation—

“No-Life King… no way!?”
“But if it’s Lady Clara, then maybe…”
“She seems like she could take down a demon lord or two.”
“Come to think of it, there’s a legend about a sealed Demon God in Lady Clara’s hometown, Clarus…”
“So you’re saying Lady Clara was the one who sealed it!?”
“Whoa! That’s Lady Clara for you!”

Wild speculation began spreading through the group.

…Could it be that this ridiculous rumor is what eventually gave rise to the whole “Clara sealed a Demon God” legend? No way… right??

While I was silently panicking and breaking into a cold sweat, Cestlavie stepped forward on my behalf and gave Eighette a cautious look.

“…So, in short, you’re a prototype artificial Saintess created by the secret society Morning Star of the Dawn within the Church? —I can’t believe it. To think they really existed and were even conducting joint research with that Dr. Victor.”

At the mention of phrases like “secret society” and “Morning Star of the Dawn,” the two templar knights exchanged a quick glance, then scanned the faces of everyone present as if to etch them deeply into memory.

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