Otome Game Villainess? Who Cares? I Want Giant Mecha. 7

Otome Game Villainess? Who Cares? I Want Giant Mecha. 7

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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The Heir of Ashdown offered me his hand and I accepted it as the crowd cheered around us. All who had witnessed the fight had seen me struggle against the man who took on all others and defeated them in an instant. They witnessed the legend-to-be before them come against a worthy foe, had their breath taken away by battle, and cheered loudly as it came to its conclusion.

I had been defeated, but I had pressed against him, made him show his true skill, and in doing so proved myself a victor myself in this arena. Though I lost to him, all his great victories and immense accomplishments ensured that I was not shamed in the slightest. To lose against him was nothing to be ashamed of. It was a victory in and of itself to fight against him, and I earned that victory with my own hands.

So, though my bones creaked, my muscles called for rest, and my stomach called for food, I could do naught but smile as the Ashdown Heir helped me to my feet and gave me a firm shake of the hand.

“Well fought, Lady Baude. Let’s fight again one day.” Those were his only words regarding my achievement. From another, I would’ve taken it as an insult, but I knew that he spoke in truth. I had more to learn, more to improve upon, and more to gain, before I fought him. He took in all my movements as we fought, countered them, and took me apart at the end before fatigue took away my edge. “And, if my people ever have need of a Chevalier, I shall call upon you.”

I understood the concept of honor and respect, and I dabbled in the matter over the course of my career as a Chevalier, but when The Ashdown Heir uttered his final words to me before turning to the king and bowing to him in respect, I felt truly honored and respected for the first time… for my sole achievements. Not only did he acknowledge my skills with the sword, he attributed all that he saw with those skills, and applied them to what I cherished. Through the lens of my hard work and perseverance with the sword, he validated my other achievements and held them in grand esteem.

Yes, without a semblance of a doubt, although victory in the melee went to the Ashdown Heir… I scored my own, personal victory.

And, no matter what my past life implied, about holding hands and staring at him for too long, it was nothing more than that.

Nothing.

More.

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The festival felt as though it ended abruptly, although it was carried out without any worries my past life had. According to my past’s insights, events such as school festivals rarely carried on as expected. Though I was somewhat affronted he attributed my world to that of a game repeatedly, I withstood the idle, nonchalant memories in favor of the wisdom that came with another lifetime. So, although I had not expected anything untoward to occur, I had prepared myself for the eventuality of an attack of some sort being conducted by some unknown foe upon the crown and all the attending nobility.

But, my plans and the paranoia of my past self went unrewarded, and the festival ended with the safe departure of nobility after awards were given.

I was the recipient of many accolades. As expected, I towered over most with multiple wins in multiple categories, alongside my grand victory in a Chevalier. Even with my defeat in the melee, my actions garnered me recognition and fame, as made history in my first year at the Academy with the King created a new prize outright for my achievement to henceforth be given to the one with the most achievements gained in a single Festival: the medal of the “The Bold.”

It was a play on words that my father had a snicker at, and my past life enjoyed, but I accepted it gracefully.  It would be very unladylike to chortle, even with the King all too pleased with his own, clever play on words.

Still, though I shined the brightest, the Ashdown’s Heir remained unparalleled in his victory. Though I had managed to land hits on him, he had taken them without a wince, and loomed victorious over me at the end of our bout. His victory over his fellows, his upperclassmen, and I contributed greatly to his achievement… and it was unsurprising that the King offered him the opportunity to spend the what time he could spare at the capital to learn from the best that he could find. Ashdown accepted the offer, as long as he could return to his home when he is called upon by his family to fight, and the king granted him that wish.

Surprisingly, however, there was a third individual who came to shine in the festival.

Clarisse, the peasant girl whom I had saved from mistreatment at the start of the year, showcased magical aptitude unseen in generations. Although that was the reason why she was present at the school on scholarship, it was only now that the truth of her skill was revealed, and she showcased it extremely well. From healing a horse with a broken leg, to setting alight a field with a wave of her hand, and dousing the firestorm with a storm, she excelled in all fields of magic and overcame all competition. I was fortunate to not have to contend with her in Artifice and the creation of Chevaliers, because if her magical talent remained true there, then she may have gained the medal I had now.

Although I would imagine it would not be called the “Bold” medal had she won it.

Anyway, we made for the odd trio of the Academy.

A Chevalier noble that excelled in multiple fields, from etiquette to the design of Chevalier weapons.

A frontier lord that excelled beyond imagining with the sword.

And, finally, a scholarship student who all others could just rival in the arcane field.

Many applauded us as we stood before them, but soon after my mother came to me and told me of ill omens of our coming. Three was a sacred number for in times past it was the number of heroic groups which came forth and opposed calamities. One with magic, one with the ability to lead, and one with extreme martial skill to guide humanity itself against a great threat that would threaten to destroy us all.

I was familiar with the notion, having been raised on such stories all my life, but my past life counselled me against believing in it… unless a calamity loomed in the distance. Words were words. Stories were just that: stories. If there was evidence, then I would act, but I would not let myself be taken by flights of fancy. No matter how much glee my past life had about the matter, I had no personal aspirations to be the cornerstone upon which humanity would rely on a time of great crisis.

Certainly, I was a tad excited at the notion, but my excitement was greatly mollified by the fact that if it was true then immense suffering loomed over the horizon. The nobility and the kingdom had the means and power to overcome adversity, but the people will suffer if truly occurred. Though I did wish to prove myself, and to reach the height of heroism, I would rather lose the opportunity and the challenge if it meant sparing the lives of the many for a great calamity.

And, so, I put those thoughts aside as the Festival ended, devoted myself to my studied and training, and let the first year of my Academy begin to truly pass.

Then, suddenly, the capital was attacked and the world I knew was shattered into something else entirely.

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The Kingdom’s capital was a port city that flourished with trade and grand mountains that protected its flanks. In ancient times, it fielded a strong navy that supported its army from the coast, and ensured its dominion over its immediate territory. Safe passage of trade, fertile lands, abundant waters, and rich mines filled with ore allowed to expand, conquer rivals, bring others to heel with sheer intimidation, and bring others into the alliance.

They were conquerors and diplomats in equal measure. They only treated with those that could oppose them with significant force and all others were defeated and made subordinate. A cruel form of meritocracy, acknowledging only those with power as equals, while subjugating those who could not muster up the strength to oppose their legions. Thus, the Kingdom was formed from the numerous city states dotted across the region where humanity entrenched themselves to fight the predations of other races and monstrous creatures.

My past life likened them to Rome, if not for the fact that they did not break down and destroy the cultures of those they opposed. The people that he remembered, which had a culture and civilization that was staggering to note, sought to take everything and make it theirs. The Kingdom, however, gave allowances to those who fell under their sway, and let people be if it was better for their coffers.

However, the beginning of the Kingdom that I was born into mattered little now, and what truly mattered was what appeared to be a foe that could wipe it out.

A strange race from the depths of the ocean assaulted the capital and was only repelled by the timely arrival of Chevaliers and the sacrifice of over a quarter of the navy, and the crippling of another quarter. The capital had been besieged by a fearsome slew of monsters, but they were not mere beasts. They wielded powerful weapons suited for their oceans and with devastating effects on land, as well as hard shells that were as tough as the armor of Chevaliers. Those were their mere footsoldiers.  Their general, numerous soldiery was composed of carapaced monsters with claws that could shear through stone, smaller arms the wielded terrifying weapons, skittering legs that scrambled quickly on many forms of terrain, and finally eyes that saw far and practically in all directions.

They devastated the militia that came to answer their attack, cut through the professional soldiery, and the home of the King was only defended by the stalwart defense of knights on foot and brave spellcasters.

The fleet of the Kingdom, meanwhile, had to contend with nightmarish foes. Immense squids the size of a man-of-war-ships breached the water and used the tentacles as long and large as windmill arms to pull entire ships into the water. They were supplemented by swimming creatures, women with gills and tails of fish instead of legs, which cast spells on the sailors to enchant them… and if that enchantment failed they came aboard and set upon them with wicked fangs, sharp teeth, and the same weapons used by their shock troops. The navy fought against many boarding actions, the weight of entire buildings crashing upon heir ships, but still proved victorious and soon cut off the invasion force and supported the defenders.

The cost was dire, but they won.

Then, finally, the Chevaliers arrived… and proved to be the finest weapon against the current threat. The powerful weapons of the shock infantry could not pierce the thick armor of Chevaliers and their own armor, as strong as it was, couldn’t compare against the immense weapons used by the Chevaliers that arrived. They relieved the beleaguered guards at the palace and laid waste to the enemy, until the new foe from beneath the seas played their hand.

Their own Chevaliers.

Constructs composed of coral, seashells, and a mixture of different creatures working in perfect synchronicity clashed against the Chevaliers… and no matter how much I tried to contain my excitement, I couldn’t bare listen without having my heart race as my past life and my current self became one.

Finally.

Finally.

Finally, I had opponents to fight!

Each of the coral monstrosities showcased different weapons, abilities, and forms. The scientists, scholars, and mages of the Kingdom poured over their carcasses, describing them as giant constructs, and living weapons, and analogues to Chevaliers. They were strong, capable of withstanding the ocean’s depths, but still paled in comparison to Chevaliers, which have been tried and tested in battle for centuries. However, all who researched the strange new monsters said that they were obviously created, that they could be improved, and that more Chevaliers would be needed to combat them if they arose from all the shores of the Kingdom.

I couldn’t help but inwardly rejoice.

I had foes that I could destroy. Monsters that would be felled by my blade that were worthy. Creatures that were true invaders and not mere instinctual beasts or tribes that simply sought to keep their lands. I had monsters that would adapt, grow stronger, and force me to fight against them with all my strength, so I couldn’t help but rejoice. The springtime of my youth, for two lives, had arrived and I couldn’t help but be jubilant.

The Academy was postponed, the talents within called home to answer the call of gathering banners to the new threat that threatened us all. Those who lived at the borders were given aid to fortify and hold out, as the new threat was addressed with immense force, while the few scholarship students were inducted into the levies immediately for their much-needed skill.

I, meanwhile, was called by my Order of Chevaliers to come forth, so that we could answer the call for battle as one, and I did not hesitate to accept the call and go ahead of everyone else.

A storm loomed over the horizon, a challenge of an age, which could wipe out everything in its path… but I felt only excitement in my heart.

My hands recalled the careful use of a “controller” to pilot a facsimile of a Chevalier in my past life, reading stories about fantastical wars waged with science alone, and putting together sculptures I desperately saved for. In this life, I recalled hours and hours of training, of feeling the thrill of being in the cockpit, and feeling, seeing, and acting as an immense creature of great power and might. In this life, and in the last, I rejoiced despite the suffering that I knew was to come for all others.

Selfishly, I felt gratitude, despite all the horrors to come.

I needed to redeem myself for those selfish desires… and what better way did I have than to lay waste to the finest foes I could ask for?

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