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🕑 Added 2025-10-04 21:28:48 +0000 UTCEP.299. [Jeanne’s Wounds from Her Father’s Abuse.]
“I remember it clearly. When you told me never to abandon you, I became really curious.”
In the Goblin Cave Maze of the Dark Forest, Eugene Schneider had heard it directly from Jeanne. Jeanne, feeling immense inferiority and anxiety after Eugene leaped ahead as a sword user alpha, confessed her fear that their relationship would change if he surpassed her. Looking at Eugene with yearning eyes, she had pleaded, “Don’t abandon me.”
“......”
After their wild first time together, when Jeanne began guiding Eugene to become a harem man, Eugene set a condition: that if he ever asked an important question, she would answer it honestly, no matter what. It had been over half a year, and that promise had faded from Jeanne’s mind. Now, reminded of it by Eugene, she fell silent.
“Why remember something like that? I’ve always felt a silly sense of rivalry with you. It’s nothing.”
Jeanne tried to brush it off, acting as if it was no big deal. But she couldn’t meet Eugene’s eyes her mental state was shaken by Antoine’s recent actions, and her words didn’t hide her true feelings.
“Whether it’s nothing or not is for me to decide. You just have to keep your promise.”
Knowing Jeanne’s timid nature well, Eugene pressed her more firmly.
“Fine. Ask. What do you want to know?”
Eugene, expert on Jeanne d’Arc de Sel Oblaing, had nudged her pride just enough to make her respond with bravado.
“Who abandoned you? Was it Duke Antoine? No matter how I interpret your words, it sounds like you were seriously abandoned by someone. I think that person was your father.”
Eugene asked directly. Jeanne was obviously terrified of being abandoned or betrayed by someone she cared about, likely because of a childhood experience. Eugene had wondered who could have caused this, but seeing Jeanne’s reactions to Antoine, he realized it must have been her father.
“.....”
Jeanne fell silent again, this time as if gathering her breath before revealing something important.
“Eugene, what do you think of my father, Antoine de Sel Oblaing?”
She asked honestly.
“The duke? Well, he’s the one who took me in as family, a stickler for rules, and... a perfect person, almost too perfect, like someone who wouldn’t bleed even if you stabbed him.”
Since Jeanne was being open, Eugene replied honestly. His first impression of Antoine was as Ulysses’s friend disciplined, always in uniform, and, after taking Eugene in, a figure of gratitude and unwavering perfection.
“Haha... Right. I felt that way as a child too he seemed perfect, unlike me.”
Jeanne nodded with a bittersweet smile.
‘Wait, does that mean she doesn’t see him as perfect anymore?’
Eugene caught a subtle nuance in her smile.
“But he wasn’t. My father was a very flawed person. Just a noble with some talent for the sword, but deeply insecure because of it. That’s the kind of person he was.”
The Antoine that Jeanne secretly knew was, by some standards, just an ordinary man.
“What do you mean?”
Eugene was surprised. Most people knew Antoine had worked his way up from nothing, but Jeanne’s words suggested something even more unexpected.
“Of the three sisters, I was always told I looked most like Father. I liked hearing that, because I always thought I was the least like him. He was so high up, and I was just an average noble child. But knowing I looked like him made me feel less alone in a family of geniuses Charlotte was a prodigy, Elizabeth surpassed me despite the age gap, Father was the empire’s top power and a Swordmaster, and Mother nearly became a saint. I felt left out, but knowing I resembled Father comforted me.”
For young Jeanne, feeling left out among geniuses, the idea that she resembled her father was a precious source of comfort.
“Then I started to believe I was even more like him. I happened to find his old diary. You know me I was always poking around the house, and one day I found it.”
During a period when the duke was reorganizing the household, Jeanne, ever curious, discovered Antoine’s diary from his youth.
“It wasn’t anything grand just a training log. But to me, it was full of surprises.”
It was a record from when Antoine was desperately striving to become stronger.
[I am trash.]
Inside, Antoine wrote things that didn’t match the man he had become.
[My talent is pathetic. What geniuses achieve in one try, I must repeat hundreds, thousands of times. I’m just a pretty label on a rotten fruit. I, Antoine de Sel Oblaing, am trash.]
The Oblaing family, even before becoming a ducal house, had produced many prominent knights. But Antoine’s talent was only average or slightly above average. For someone with his ambition, that reality was crushing.
[The sword at my throat terrifies me. I pretend to be calm, but it’s just like a scared dog barking. I hate how I tremble in battle and duels.]
Antoine’s self-loathing wasn’t just about his lack of talent; he was also inwardly weak. His perfect exterior was a mask to hide his frailty.
[Because I’m such trash, I couldn’t protect what was mine. If I could be strong become a Sword Expert, a Seeker, a Swordmaster I’d sell my soul to the devil.]
The last entry Jeanne found was full of self-accusation, curses, and a mad desire for strength.
‘So my father was no different from me! He wasn’t a genius he became who he is through effort!’
To others, Antoine’s struggles would seem shocking, but to Jeanne, it made her feel closer to him.
‘I won’t complain anymore I’ll work even harder! Then Father will recognize me! He walked this path too! He’ll understand and embrace me!’
Young Jeanne, whose self-esteem was low, became filled with motivation. She was surrounded by geniuses but now knew her father had lived a similar life.
‘Father! I’m working so hard! It’s tough and painful, but I’m doing my best, just like you! Please see me! See your struggling daughter!’
She wanted to be loved. That was her wish as a child. She thought it was possible, since she and her father had a connection. So, to appeal to the father who trained her so harshly, Jeanne trained even harder.
But the result was the opposite of what she hoped for.
“You really are useless.”
After enduring grueling training, Jeanne expected praise. Instead, her father looked at her with contempt and spat words she could hardly believe.
“Huh...?”
She had never seen that look from him before, not even during strict training. She froze, her face full of hope.
“You remind me of memories I’d rather forget. Trash. There was a trash human. You’re worthless never pick up a sword in front of me again, you useless thing.”
Clench!!!
Looking down at the frozen Jeanne, Antoine’s face was full of anger and hostility. Having clawed his way to the top, his history of struggle was not a source of pride, but of contempt for weakness. Jeanne’s efforts were not admirable to him, but a mirror of his own past he wished to erase.
“F-father...”
Thus, Jeanne, who had yearned for a little love from her father, was left brokenhearted and abandoned.
