I don’t know how long I stood on that empty field. Long enough for the sword tourney to begin wrapping up; I could hear the uproarious cheers from across the ground, though my shell-shocked mind could barely register them. I was so… so, damned sure. I was determined to prove them wrong; my parents, Lord Rhinestadt, and everyone who told me I was on a fool's errand. I would prove them all wrong, shoving their stupid trials back into their faces. I mean, where the hell did they even expect commoners to get a chance to ride a horse?! 

I thought I was such a hero. I thought I could just run in and heroically save the princess from reality; the reality that this world had very specific plans for her. Just like all those heroes from the crappy novels I read in my previous life. 

Am I giving up?

Giving up. Giving up? What the hell did that even mean anyways? What, was I just going to storm into Rhinestadt’s office and demand he give me a second chance? Demand that I prove myself in the sword tourney? That was the sort of thing heroes did, and never suffered the consequences for. But here, there was no second chance; no waiting for next year, no begging and screaming for undeserved attention. If there was one thing I was certain about, it was that the rules did not bend. Favours were for the rich, and for the poor like me, losing with grace was the best option. 

Well, fuck that. 

A familiar rage built up inside of me; one that always simmered deep within. A rage against injustice; at a system and a life that decided I was worthless. No - classified me as worthless. A system that would destroy me if I tried to fight back. 

I hauled myself to my feet and started making my way over to where the sword tourney was finishing. It sounded like the fight was still going, but it would likely finish soon. I didn’t really have a plan; just a theory - no, more like a hunch. I would make this damnable system bend to my will. 

Once I got to the arena, I could see the final match was in full swing. Beet Barbie was facing off against a handsome boy with black hair and blue eyes. He looked vaguely familiar to me, like someone from a photograph I had seen long ago. He truly did look like a perfect gentleman; though his brow was doused with sweat, his expression was full of excitement. It made me uncomfortable, though I couldn’t put my finger on why. 

Beet Barbie was putting up a good fight - one that she was sinking her all into. Truth be told, it was incredible to watch; she danced back and forth, making swipes and jabs with her rapier at her opponent. Yet despite her ferocity, the boy was still able to deflect her attacks with ease. 

“I must admit, you’ve impressed me,” said the boy with a smile. “But now it’s my turn to get serious.” 

With that his attacks increased in ferocity, forcing Beet Barbie to retreat. But he didn’t let up; his moves became faster and faster, and before she knew it, Beet Barbie’s sword was flying through the air, landing point first into the sand behind him. Resting his sword on Beet Barbie’s shoulder, he offered another stunning smile that for some reason sent chills running down my spine.

“Though impressive, it would seem that you have a long way to go before you can beat me, Miss Marianne.”

The stands erupted in cheers as the boy returned Marianne’s sword to her. “Edward! Edward! Lord Edward!” they shouted, eager for his attention. But the boy just offered them a wave as he stepped towards the referee. 

So Edward was his name… why did he bother me so much? Was it because- oh. It was because I had seen this scene before. 

Yes, I had finally found my first male lead. Edward Decathy, the son of Count Decathy. In the visual novel, he was Violette’s personal bodyguard. Bullied and abused by Violette after he was assigned to her, he developed a deep hatred towards her. His heart is won over by the Heroine after she treats the injuries he recieves on a mission for Violette. She comforts him and heals his scars from a tragic backstory involving his mother, and he betrays Violette in order to support the Heroine. In one of the endings he even gets his revenge against Violette, killing her after one of her schemes goes awry. 

Now, one might think that the fact that he holds such a violent hatred towards a young noblewoman meant Violette’s murder was much deserved. But of course, the truth was far more depressing. Violette’s bullying, while abusive and harassing, was not much more than typical highschool bullying. While damaging and infuriating, nothing she did to Edward constituted a death sentence, and certainly not one meted out by vigilante justice in a back alley. Edward, quite simply, was just a deeply violent person; something he hid behind a casual smile and a condescending attitude. The same attitude this smarmy little shit-lord was showing to Marianne, and one I was deeply familiar with. 

Not personally, but it was an overwhelmingly popular trope in the otome genre; a scene where the heroine, confident in her swordsmanship, somehow ends up sparring with the male lead. Everytime this happens, the male lead always defeats her, proving his masculinity by establishing physical dominance over the heroine, or some such bullshit like that. It was a scenario where the male lead was some sort of warrior god, able to defeat anyone and everyone since he was a child. This was also often accompanied by some tragic backstory involving his mother, and the story always ended with the heroine learning to be a good little wife who would never touch a sword again. 

It sickened me to the core. 

Now, Beet Barbie was hardly a heroine and this edgy looking little boy was definitely not the actual male lead of this world; that guy should still be far away, establishing his own tragic backstory. But I knew that this kid would develop oppressive male lead syndrome soon if I didn’t stop it in his tracks.

So I did.

“Hey coal head!” I shouted over the cheers. “Shame you had to cheat to win that fight!”

The kid didn’t react at first, likely unable to hear me over the crowd. So I shouted again. “Hey Coal Head! Good thing your opponent was a little girl, else you would’ve lost!”

This time he shot a glance my way, but chose to ignore me. Fortunately, the cheers of the crowd were quietening down as they waited for the referee to formally announce the winner. I graciously took the opportunity offered to me. 

“I bet sparring is all you can do! You’d probably shit yourself if you had to fight for real!”

Gasps and angry voices began to erupt as the crowd started to notice my heckling. The referee frowned. 

“Silence! Behave yourselves! I’ll have the guards haul out anyone making a fuss.”

This was my last chance. I climbed up onto the fence bordering the arena and shouted so the whole arena could hear me.

“DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW YOU CHEATED?! HOW DID THAT POTION TASTE?!”

Now that got a reaction. I guess male leads really were all the same when it came to their mothers. I must confess I did get a small amount of pleasure when his eyes filled with rage turned towards me, but I did not feel guilty in the slightest. His wealth and privilege meant he could become a squire no matter what I said, so I didn’t mind throwing him under the bus for my benefit. 

“I saw him drink a strength potion before the tourney!” I shouted towards the referee. “Edward cheated!”

“Lies!” shouted Edward as he began marching towards me, his hand already reaching for his sword. Geez, he was quick to violence. 

“I swear on my life it’s true!”

The ref put a hand on Edward’s shoulder, trying to somewhat calm him down. “What proof do you have?” he asked, giving me a nasty glare. 

“None,” I answered honestly. “But I swear on my life and family that it is so.”

“None?”

“He destroyed the bottle, so how could I have proof? But I arrived late to the tourney, just before the final match, and I saw him down a small bottle before he went out to confront his opponent-” My voice was drowned out with boos from the crowd. I whipped around on them, bellowing out “WHY WOULD I LIE TO YOU?!”

They quieted at this, surprised by my ferocity. “What could I possibly gain by besmirching the name of a noble?! I only care for the integrity of House Rhinestadt, and if a cheater defeated you all at this tourney, how can I sit still?!” 

The referee was definitely suspicious of me, but I didn’t care if he believed me or not; the only thing that mattered was to keep the fire burning in Edward’s eyes. 

“What do you say to these charges?” asked the referee.

“Lies. Absolute lies,” answered Edward, his eyes as cold and piercing as ice. “You are willing to swear on your life, girl?”

“Yes,” I answered, lifting my chin as I returned a glare full of fire. 

“Then to prove my innocence, I challenge you to a duel, commoner. Unless you apologize to me on your knees, then I will show no mercy.”

I hopped off the fence, my glare of anger suddenly replaced by an eager expression. He’d taken the bait, hook, line and sinker, and I had my duel. 

“Fine then. If I win, you forfeit your victory to Bea- Miss Marianne. If you win, I will offer you my life as an apology.”

He smirked, giving me the grin of a male lead. “You won’t win.” 

Meanwhile the referee, watching in confusion, ran up and patted me on the shoulder. “Girl, you really shouldn’t be doing this. Let us settle this reasonably; there are ways we can test for substances-”

“No thank you. I will prove it through trial by combat.”

“But if he actually is drugged, you won’t-”

“I’m ready,” I said to Edward, cutting off the ref. 

“Where’s your sword?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Got none.”

“Then take one from over there,” he said, gesturing his head to the side of the arena where a collection of different weapons lay. “I won’t stand for people claiming this duel is unfair.”

I chose a fairly lengthy longsword; a bit on the heavy side, but it gave me a satisfactory reach. Taking up a casual stance across from Edward, I indicated to the referee to start the match.  

“Let’s dance, pretty boy.”

 “I’ll have that mouth of yours filled with sand by the end of the match,” Edward snapped back. It was good to see he was so fired up; his anger was much more bearable than the condescending tone he gave to Marianne. 

The referee held a pistol into the air, his face still clouded by confusion and concern. But since both parties had requested it, he had no choice but to pull the trigger and start the final duel of the night.

Niame

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