Self-Harming Heroine - Chapter 21

A strong impact weakened my grip, and my sword flew out of my hand.

In an instant, my body was left defenseless.

My eyes followed the sword as it spun away, and when I turned back, my opponent’s blade was already at my throat.

“…I surrender.”

With a sigh, I raised both hands.

What a shame. I wanted to pretend it was a mistake and see what it felt like to get stabbed.

But with such a clear defeat, there’s no chance for that.

“Nice effort, Lucia.”

With my declaration of surrender, Arin lowered her sword.

That makes it 0 wins and 3 losses.

She’s just too strong. No matter what attack I make, she predicts it and leaves me with no options.

Even though I was the one pressing the attack, it felt like I was the one defending. I’d swing, she’d block or deflect, neutralizing every single one of my moves with minimal effort.

Her danger sense is impressive.

Unlike Eugene or Alice, who have explosive power or a striking impact, Arin is solidly strong.

She anticipates her opponent’s moves and counters them before they’re even executed, leaving me no choice but to lose the tactical battle.

Unremarkable yet graceful. Arin’s swordsmanship specializes in catching her opponents off guard. I felt like I was holding my own for a while, but I was already on the defensive before I knew it.

Of course—Arin is exceptionally strong. I can’t win against her; even leaving a scratch on her is hard.

Not that Lucia is weak.

As one of the heroines of “The Dawn of the Sword” and a member of the Golden Generation like Arin, Lucia should be strong too.

Still, the difference between us feels overwhelming… but I guess that’s to be expected. I didn’t use my super regeneration.

While Arin makes full use of her danger sense, I barely use my supernatural ability at all.

To really activate super regeneration, I’d have to get hurt first, right?

This wasn’t a life-or-death battle; it was just a sparring match, so I wasn’t planning to shed any blood.

At least not my own.

Honestly, I wanted to feign a mistake and get stabbed to see what it felt like… but maybe her danger sense included a warning about my own injuries; because my feint didn’t work at all.

To be fair, if we’d both fought seriously just now, the outcome might’ve been different.

A blade pointed at my neck? So what? Lucia can take a slash to the neck and live. Just go ahead and slash me, please~♡

Lucia’s fighting style is simple and direct: rely on super regeneration and fight until the opponent drops. Slicing, burning, piercing—it doesn’t matter; she won’t die.

Normally, regeneration-based abilities don’t block pain, so you’d have to bear the full brunt of it. But for Lucia, this was a blessing.

She doesn’t even think about dodging attacks. Clinging on relentlessly, landing a single hit is all that matters.

The opponent doesn’t have regeneration, right? But I’ll recover from any attack quickly, so I’m at a massive advantage if it drags on.

The opponent, battered and bruised, versus Lucia, who’s still standing unharmed. There’s no accumulated mental toll from enduring all the pain either.

And on top of that, Lucia has near-endless stamina, so good luck trying to exhaust her first.

Wait, then why did I collapse and fail to complete the 60 laps on the track, you ask?

Well, obviously because I didn’t use super regeneration! (T/N: I knew it…)

Super regeneration restores physical strength too. It’s not unlimited power, though; there’s a limit to her mental endurance.

Supernatural abilities are powers that draw from the mind. The more you use them, the more mental energy you consume. Even if Lucia’s unique fortitude is near-impregnable, her mental endurance has limits, so eventually, she’ll get exhausted.

But the opponent will always tire out before she does.

The plan is to wear the opponent down in a grueling fight, then end it when they’re too weak to resist.

That’s Lucia’s style.

Of course, we’re not going to do anything like that during a class session.

This is just a sparring match.

The goal is to test skills while careful not to injure each other. Not to fight to the death.

“Just now, you hesitated for a moment, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“My danger sense gave me a warning. Lucia, were you planning to counterattack, even if it meant getting stabbed in the neck?”

“Uh, um… hehe.”

As I chuckled awkwardly, Arin gave me a wry smile.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. You don’t like getting hurt, remember?”

Actually, I do like it.

Of course, I couldn’t say that, so I rattled off an excuse I’d prepared in advance.

“In real combat, you don’t get that kind of consideration, so I figured I should get used to it now. Besides, I need to understand my ability better.”

“That’s not exactly wrong, but…”

Regeneration is my greatest weapon.

Just like how Arin’s danger sense is hers.

She knows that, which is probably why she hesitated in what she wanted to say.

“If that’s what you want, I can’t argue. Still, I wouldn’t recommend a tactic that relies on getting hurt. All living beings fear and dislike pain, after all. It could wear down your spirit… even leave lasting trauma. There’s precedent for that. Many warriors with regenerative abilities who’ve fought on the battlefield report suffering from PTSD.”

Is that really me who fears pain, or is it you?

Do you still wake up screaming in the middle of the night?

Honestly, “The Dawn of the Sword” is filled with characters suffering from PTSD.

Arin in front of me, Alice, and Frey—it’s the same with them.

Then there’s Eugene and Leo, without a doubt. Anastasia might be an exception, but even she carries scars on her heart.

And the root of it all was the Great Catastrophe five years ago.

The day when countless rifts opened, pouring monsters down like rain.

That day, everyone lost something precious.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I smiled and nodded.

They’ve been through so much at such a young age. They should only just be entering high school, yet they’re wielding weapons instead of pens.

“We still have time left for sparring. Want to keep going?”

At my question, Arin checked the time and then answered by raising her sword.

◈

Life at the academy was a repetitive cycle, like a hamster running on a wheel.

In the mornings, we went through a rigorous curriculum to improve combat skills—endurance training, sparring, joint exercises. In the afternoons, we attended regular classes. Sometimes the order was switched.

After classes, we had free time, but most students spent it on self-discipline. Whether a lot or a little, everyone dedicated some time to training.

Alice was an exception, spending all her time reading books. Despite not training much, it’s impressive how strong she is; it’s a true testament to her natural talent.

As for me, it varied day by day. Some days, I’d follow Alice to the library to read, while other days, I’d devote myself to self-improvement like the others.

I was somewhat lacking in fundamentals. Although Lucia’s body instinctively remembered how to fight, her skills were still a bit behind the other members of the Golden Generation.

In the evening, we returned to the dormitory.

We enjoyed some leisure time.

The academy dorms were nicely soundproofed.

It was an ordinary daily life. Well, perhaps not that ordinary—it was the academy, after all.

But even if it wasn’t normal, it was a peaceful life. Like clockwork, each day passed by smoothly, with no major disruptions.

Yet with each passing day, it drew nearer.

The day the ‘incident’ would happen.

The moment when the true story of “The Dawn of the Sword” would begin.

It wasn’t a major incident.

No casualties, and the situation was resolved smoothly.

It was the students’ first field experience.

We weren’t going into a real battlefield. It was a practice session involving weak monsters captured ahead of time, giving the students a chance to gain real-world experience.

Then, when one of the captured monsters escaped, an incident occurred, which Eugene and the other students managed to handle—a classic storyline.

“That day is when the wheels of fate start to turn. There’ll be an endless string of incidents, and our days will become busier.”

So, for now, this was the only time to relax.

Wasting such precious time wasn’t an option.

“Now, let’s see…”

I began taking out some items from a pile in the corner of the room.

They were things I’d bought at the hardware store over the weekend.

I’d used a few of them already, but plenty of items were still collecting dust from that shopping spree.

“This one’s a folding saw… and here’s a machete… a hatchet… an electric screwdriver…”

I carefully placed the tools on the desk, organizing them in a neat row. After briefly contemplating, I decided to put most of them back, keeping only a few.

“Alright, let’s go with these today.”

“Ta-da! A hacksaw!”

It was a type of saw commonly used to cut metal.

Humming a little tune, I unbuttoned my blouse. Off came the blouse and skirt, followed by my bra and underwear.

With the hacksaw and a marker in hand, I headed to the bathroom.

The bathroom floor still bore dark red stains. I used to clean up meticulously so there would be no marks, but lately, I’d gotten lax about it—why bother when it would just get messy again?

I leaned against the wall and slid down.

Opposite of me was a mirror I’d prepared earlier.

In the reflection, Lucia smiled back, her golden hair and pink eyes striking against her bare skin.

“Hello, Lucia.”

I waved, and the Lucia in the mirror waved back.

A smiling, naked girl—once, I would have been thrilled to see that.

Too bad—that girl is me.

I’d brought a washable marker with me.

Permanent markers are too much trouble to wash off.

I stretched out Lucia’s smooth leg.

Yes, a fine figure, quite the allure for anyone with a certain taste.

I scribbled on my leg with the marker, drawing dotted lines, that circled around my thigh.

Perfect, all set.

I put the marker down and picked up the hacksaw.

I pressed the blade to my thigh. A cold sensation spread.

“Ugh…”

I applied pressure and pushed forward.

Then pulled back.

And pushed forward again.

My skin was injured.

Slowly, I repeated the motion.

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.

The blade dug deeper.

A trickle of blood slid down my thigh.

Shick. Shack.

The skin tore.

The things it protected inside were cut along with it.

“A-ah… h-ha… aah…”

A groan, thick with pain, slipped from my mouth.

I clenched my teeth, biting down hard. 

Crack. 

My teeth ground together.

Shick.

Shack.

Shick.

The sound of my leg grinding filled the air.

My veins severed. My muscles tore. Red flooded my vision.

There—it snagged.

Bone.

“Hic, ugh… ah… ah…”

Clack.

The blade bit into the bone.

Every time I applied pressure, I felt it slice deeper into the bone—a chilling sensation.

Suppressing my twitching body, I gripped the hacksaw tighter.

Push forward, pull back. Repeat. I kept sawing through the bone.

My thigh bone… it’s so sturdy…

But I can’t let it stop me; if it resists, I won’t be able to cut through it.

How many times have I sawed now?

After what felt like hundreds of motions, the hacksaw no longer caught on anything.

“Ha… haha…”

I did it…

My leg… looking at it like this, it’s nothing but a hunk of meat.

With tingling pain, my vision blurred.

When I closed my eyes, tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Intense…”

I set down the blood-stained hacksaw and lifted the severed leg.

Only moments ago, it had been part of my body. Now it lay there, cooling as warm blood continued to trickle out like a final breath.

I used to run hard with this leg… guess I won’t be running anymore…

“Still warm…”

Ache.

My chest hurts.

It’s not enough. Not nearly enough.

Cutting just one leg leaves me far from satisfied.

“Humans have four limbs… right?”

I picked up the marker.

My body trembled with pain, making it hard to draw neat lines like before.

I left crooked lines on my remaining leg and both arms.

“Ah… one of my arms… I won’t be able to cut that.”

What a shame… but I have no choice.

My ability is super regeneration, not telekinesis.

If I had telekinesis, I wouldn’t have had to cut off my leg like this.

In the mirror, Lucia was smiling.

She wriggled her mutilated leg, grinning back at me.

I brought the hacksaw to my remaining leg.

Unable to stifle the laughter bubbling up, I pressed my fingers firmly to the blade.

Shunk!