Otome Game Villainess? Who Cares? I Want Giant Mecha. (Patreon)
Content
Otome Game Villainess? Who Cares? I Want Giant Mecha. (Reincarnated Otome Genre)
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Commissioned by Shaderic
Wordcount: 2500
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I must be completely honest.
I only vaguely recalled my past life.
I had lived in a massive city filled with people, fantastical technologies, and immense potential. My life there had been pleasant and with caring family. Education was granted to me as a matter of course, food was never a worry, and my parents bickered but never quarreled. I’d found my respite from education and other endeavors with machines that allowed one to interact with stories or scenarios, finding myself attracted to them in a multitude of genres, until I came to a sudden, decisive end.
My name from that previous life escaped me, as my memories fluttered to and fro my mind as I grew. They had frightened me at first, especially as I was a man in my previous life, and the words I heard in my memories were unlike all the others I heard before. As I grew as a child, I thought them all to be strange, terrifying nightmares in which I forced into the body and life of another without any of my own control.
Until… on a singular, fateful day… I found my heart and mind beating as one with my previous self, whose language and world I did not know, but whose soul was my own.
It was the day I laid my eyes upon a Chevalier in all its majesty and glory.
Fresh from battling a massive basilisk which threatened the entire countryside, the Chevalier was battle damaged. The crystalline fibers which composed its musculature was visible in many places where its armor was rent. Most of its armor was broken and its weapons practically shattered. Its vestments and decorations had fallen away in pitched battle and many of my fellow children looked upon it with fear instead of awe.
I had looked at the Chevalier, as it carried upon its only remaining arm the head of a fearsome monster withs the pilot returning in a broken canopy, and found a deep, immense excitement in my soul that made me understand that I was two lives within one.
Some part of me recalled that I was born into a role in this world, that I needed to avoid a multitude of terrible endings, and tread carefully or my life would end… but at that moment… with all my soul I came to a singular decision.
I cared only for one singular thing from that moment onward: I wished to become a Chevalier who protected the innocent, slayed monsters, and lived to the ideals of Chivalry.
Gallivanting with princes of other nations?
Laughable.
Bullying a budding Saint from the countryside?
Foolishness.
Bringing the kingdom to ruin by dealing with demons?
Ridiculous.
The only path forward for me, in the words of my former self was: “to be an utterly awesome mecha pilot hero!”
Some of his nomenclature and verbiage was still lost to me, but the feeling was the same.
I did indeed wish to be a spectacular Chevalier above all else.
…
Alexander Buade pinched the bridge of his nose as his trusted friend and comrade whistled before him in his study. The blonde man with gray-streaked blonde hair scowled behind the desk his great-grandfather had carved for his study. He glared at his friend and master-at-arms… who looked far too pleased with himself for a man who failed to do as he told by his Duke.
“Roane… explain this report to me. Immediately.” In the spring, upon seeing one of his Chevaliers return with a Basilisk’s head, Alexander’s beloved daughter decided to become a Chevalier. His prim, proper, and beautiful daughter had always had a tomboyish side, but he had struggled with the notion. “Why does it say that you train my daughter so that she can join FINEST ORDER OF CHEVALIERS OF THE EMPIRE!?”
Female Chevaliers existed, many daughters of lesser nobility participated in the Chevalier corps as officers and endured basic training in the magic-intensive machines. It was a station of high merit, especially with the constant clashing between the Empire and its neighbors. Many ladies of note raised up their family, either by being known to upstanding heroes as women of practicality and action, or as heroes themselves who gained merits and award for valorous action.
It was not the place for the daughter of Duke Buade, whose influence and power over the Empire was second only to the Emperor’s.
Lenoir Buade was not to be involved in such matters, so he asked his close friend and confidant to do what he couldn’t: break his daughter’s dreams of becoming a Chevalier.
Alexander spent night after night wondering about his eight-year old’s summer spent in strict military training. He lost his appetite at the thought of his beloved daughter’s feet bleeding form marching in fresh boots. He lost sleep wondering how she fared eating military rations every day. He found himself sick with a cold for the first time in years when he heard that his daughter was beginning her training with magic, which a tiresome process he wished to gently coax her into, instead of having it forced upon her as she trained, marched, and barely ate.
The only thought that stopped him from calling her back was the knowledge that the man who saved his life, who stayed beside him through thick and thin through an entire war, was watching over his daughter as he’d watched over him.
But now that man was smiling like a lunatic after handing him a recommendation to send his eight-year-old daughter to the most elite and most endangered squadron in the entire Empire!
“You have five minutes to explain before I fire you and maybe kill you.”
“Pftahaha, you couldn’t in a Chevalier or with your bare hands.”
“…three minutes…”
Roane’s grin didn’t fade as he grinned at Alexander.
“It’s simple. Your daughter’s every noteworthy Chevalier reborn with the potential to leave them all in the dust. Her ability to follow orders is outstanding, her ability to think on her feet is incredible, and she has your ability to frighten people into doing what she wants with a single glare.” Roane spoke well and Alexander’s eyes narrowed. He knew that he needed to be strong and couldn’t preen about his daughter. He wanted her out of the Chevaliers and never consider getting into one ever again. It didn’t matter that the best Chevalier he knew was praising his daughter with no sigh of stopping. Not at all. “She’s magnificent Alex. She even wants to learn every single weapon, every single technique, and she mourns that she doesn’t have enough time in the day to train more. She’ll not only be worthy of becoming Chevalier of the most elite unit in the Empire, but she become its head… and change the entire world as we know it!”
Alexander caught himself being lulled to lower his defenses by the praises being given to his daughter and cleared his threat.
“T-those are mere words. I must be given evidence to believe in them. My daughter is quite intelligent, wonderful, and clever, she might have convinced her godfather to dote on her.” Alexander cleared his throat and decided to stand. He began walking and Roane followed him with a content grin. No words were said as they walked together and Alexander very much appreciated his friend’s calm, if smug nature. “So… how soon can you have trials set for my dear Lenoir’s showcasing of her skills?”
Roane’s answer was immediate.
“Why you can see it for yourself now, my friend. I knew you’d wish to see her progress first.”
Alexander did his best to look dignified even as he suppressed the urge to smirk in tandem with his older, best friend.
“Very well then, my master-at-arms, lead the way!”
…
Amelie Baude glared at her husband as he sat stiffly next to her.
The ebony-haired, elegant lady clad in blue and silver spoke with a smile, but her tone was so icy that fall’s breeze felt like winter hoarfrost.
“My dear husband… why is our daughter in a Chevalier and not being looked over by our physicians and tended to by all our servants?” Alexander Baude felt a cold sweat break upon his brow and he struggled to maintain his poise at the words. His knees threatened to bend while his neck itched to bow, while profuse apologies threatened to leave his lips. His wife was a fearsome woman of high status. “Can you explain to me why the torments you told me were necessary… did not work and my dear daughter is in machine of war?”
Alexander glanced to his left, where his dear friend and ally was, only to find Roane at the other end of the dueling area’s bench.
He decried his friend as a traitor and a coward as his wife noticed his idle glance.
“I asked you, my dear Alex. Not your master-at-arms and your most trusted advisor.” Amelia’s words made Alexander’s stomach turn, leap, and try to throttle him for a less painful death. Though his stomach had good intentions, he repressed it and put a small smile on his face. It was all he could manage as his wife glared at him over an opened fan. “Speak. Quickly.”
“Roane found Lenoir to be incredibly talented during her training. He told me that she has the potential to be the finest Chevalier in the Empire… and for me to believe his words and even consider his advice, I must see our daughter’s ability with my own eyes.” Alex swallowed thickly and did his best to meet his wife’s dour gaze. Unfortunately, all he found in his path was a brutal glare aimed at his direction. He struggled to clear his throat. “My dear… our daughter requested this of us and it the Empire’s foundation lies upon the right of all to prove their merit. Had Lenoir failed and broken as I thought, I would’ve never allowed this.”
“…but here our daughter is, with her dream inadvertently fulfilled, and with a taste of her own talent.” Amelia’s words were cold and Alex could tell that some measure of blame was being levelled upon him. However, the Duke of Baude knew that his wife wouldn’t deny her daughter of her dreams. They were one in the same in their wishes to see their daughter happy. “Fine, then. We will speak of this later, but I will be silent on this matter for now.”
Alex let himself sigh in relief as his wife turned away from him. Their standing was that of equals. The Duchess of Baude herself came from nobility. Though with their marriage she was no longer capable of inheriting her family’s estate, unless her elder siblings, younger siblings, and cousins all perished, she still retained their loyalty and care. She was their princess and they would fight against him for her and theirs was one of the largest, most prosperous lands under the Duke’s control.
Alexander would rather ride into battle again than risk his wife’s ire, especially when it concerned their daughter.
Still, his relief was short-lived… as his daughter walked through the gates of the dueling grounds and sent his heart racing.
Alexander had been through many battles and in those battles he managed to gain incredible experience. His memory and ability to quickly discern his foes worked together to give him a firm foundation to survive in battles. The Duke prided himself in his ability to discern the ability of his foes with glance, to create plans the moment he confronted his foe, and to use whatever it took to win.
He would take those weaker than him head one, find and use the weakness of those equal to him, and call upon allies to join in him in battle against his betters. While many of his fellow heirs laughed at him time and time again, their jeers faded away as they lost their lives, became cripples, or learned to do as he bid them to.
So, when he looked upon his daughter’s entrance in her Chevalier, he nearly shot up from his seat as all his memories and experiences told him to find an advantage immedietly and heavily consider fetching his friends.
Lenoir walked with the Chevalier with grace. The heavy footfalls of the grand machine barely made noise as it fell upon the ground. Its gait was stiff, but there were moments of smoothness and flexibility that denoted many hours spent to grow stronger in battle. Then, finally, Lenoir piloted the Chevalier with a confidence born from experience and became the focal point where she stood.
Alexander had slain many such promising rookies in battles against nations. He used every trick he had at his disposal, from throwing mud to engaging his foes in a grapple, and calling upon his friends after assisting them with their own battles. The Duke thought of it as the simple matter of removing future threats from standing against his nation,
The moment he locked eyes upon his daughter’s silent stride into the dueling arena… he knew that there was no refuting his friend’s words. His daughter did many things to prove her skill, but Alexander decided to not stand his daughter at her entrance.
His daughter had immense potential, potential that could be refined into a singular point, and give the Empire a strategic advantage. Though he’d considered pulling upon all his influence to see her become the second, or third, Crown Princes’ fiancée… the path his daughter was on right now made doing so unnecessary.
As he watched her take on monsters many rookies would find difficult with ease, Alexander knew that he could give his daughter was she wanted… and what she didn’t knew she wanted yet.
By supporting her growth here and now, he would give his daughter the influence and power to be free. With the proper preparations, with her willingness to learn, and with both his and his wife’s support, Alexander knew that Lenoir could be beyond anyone’s reach. The Emperor will know better than to try and contest her and force her to do anything. No other Duke will try to force her to marry their sons and no one lesser than her can hatch a scheme to bring her low.
He could give her the ability to be beyond reproach in whatever path she chose in her life.
The greatest gift that Alexander could think of… and one that he wanted he desperately wanted his daughter to have.
So, without hesitation, he turned to his wife… only to find her eyes wide as she stared her daughter’s strength, power, and skill in battle.
She saw her daughter already free from the many terrible her mother feared she’d need to endure as a woman.
Alexander decided against speaking and trying to convince his wife upon seeing the glistening moisture upon his wifes eyes.
Instead he reached out for her gloved hand and tenderly held it, before looking back at his daughter.
Yes.
The right path forward henceforth, he knew, was to make his daughter truly powerful so that she could be free.