Hercilia wasn't an ideal woman but it never troubled her.

She'd rather practise her swordsmanship barefooted in the dirt then master her embroidery skills, she'd rather eat with her firm bare hands then eat it in an elegant manner, she'd rather wore men outfits over shimmering dresses. She was Hercilia, a woman who was free to do as she wishes but sometimes, life doesn't progress as she has intended it to be.

She entered their single-room wrecked house that was located at a nearby forest. She was practising her swordsmanship without her father's permission as he was against it. He believed it wasn't right for women to wield a sword but to look after the family.

"You," her father points a finger at her.

She stared at her father and pondered on the thought if she should move out with her younger brother to a more desirable residence. Hercilia knew it'd be costly to bring her brother along to the capital but who would take care of him when her useless of a father wouldn't? Shaking her head, she waited for her father's daily scolding.

"What have I told you? Stop playing with that absurd sword of yours!" He spat.

Robert Clarence was once an ambitious man who owned a remarkable attire business but after a year of success and rising to fame as a commoner, an identified man destroyed his store and stole all his money of daily hard work, damaging his reputation and leaving him and his two pure children starved for weeks. He blamed himself for not being on guard but his resentment soon was directed at his eldest child, Hercilia Clarence. To this day, he blames her and never supported her and younger brother in anything.

"Throw that sword this instant or I will have you punished!" He screamed.

She mentally laughed at his words. How dare he? He has no right to punish me when he left me under a pile of mess!

His responsibilities as a father was tossed at her. She never raised her voice but today, it was going to be different. She was furious.

Hercilia tightened the grip on her sword. "Do you not have any shame father?"

Robert watched her caring daughter rose her razor-sharp silver sword at his throat.

"I once looked up at you in admiration but father, look at your state. You disgust me." Her hand trembled at her sword. She was afraid, afraid she'd harm her only parent. However, the stress and pressure of looking after her family at a young age made her sword closer to his throat, droplets of crimson blood poured down his neck. He stared at her in shock and terror.