I’m Telling You, I’m Not a Boss Monster!

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“This was how it was.”

Charlotte woke from her hazy state and looked around.

In the midst of a thickly overgrown meadow, huts were lined up.

It was at that moment I realized where I was.

How could I forget my hometown, so vividly etched in my memory?

“…Indeed.”

I had anticipated this ever since they said they were reproducing my trauma.

If there was a trauma that became a scar for Charlotte, it was undoubtedly that tragic incident from ten years ago.

The scent of grass clinging to my nose and all my senses were vivid.

Charlotte casually reached out to one of the huts.

It was as if she passed through objects like a ghost, feeling nothing.

Other than touch, every other sensation was sharply felt.

Bang.

Women began to emerge from the hut.

Naturally, they didn’t recognize Charlotte.

In this hallucination, all she could do was watch.

‘No wonder she must feel powerless.’

Having it right in front of her and being unable to do anything.

Nonetheless, Charlotte felt confident.

She had long since accepted the memories of that past trauma.

Charlotte scanned her surroundings with cold eyes.

The women who had come out to gather herbs and fruits were precisely fifty-two witches, as she recalled.

Her Aunt Selina and her own mother were among them, and there was a young witch following them, holding their hands.

A small figure not even reaching Charlotte’s elbow.

It was her ten-year-old self.

Charlotte’s pupils trembled, but the agitation was brief.

“Mom, look! Have I grown a lot?”

The dark magic writhed in the small Charlotte’s grasp.

Unaware of her clumsy manipulation of magic, she proudly showcased it to her mother.

Charlotte could vaguely guess what her mother would say and do next.

Even though it was just a fragment, it triggered faint memories.

“You’ve grown a lot! Then shall we try gathering?”

“Um…”

Little Charlotte hesitated for a moment and clumsily attempted to gather her magic.

It was overwhelmingly lacking skill by any measure.

Her mother smiled gently and ruffled her daughter’s hair.

“You’re still lacking in your finishing touches. Practice gathering more.”

“…Yes.”

Little Charlotte hung her head low, a somewhat sulky look on her face.

Not like a child, she expressed her feelings a bit too much.

“But still, you’ve improved a lot. You really have talent, right? Once you grow big, you can protect your mom too.”

“Really?”

“Of course. When have you seen me lie?”

Witches trained their dark magic for the safety of themselves and their families.

Charlotte had learned for the same reason.

In this world, witches were forever hunted.

To survive, a witch needed the strength to protect herself, and if she wanted to protect her family, she’d have to work even harder.

The peace of her clan. With that single thought, Charlotte worked diligently.

Though she didn’t have enough skill yet, she could wield basic magic.

For a ten-year-old, that was quite an ambitious achievement.

“…What’s so good about it?”

When her mother gently patted her head, little Charlotte’s face lit up with a bright smile.

Contrarily, Charlotte observed them with a blank expression.

That smile proved that she had been incredibly happy at that moment.

Because she was happy, the despair that hit when her everyday life crumbled felt hauntingly close.

The silhouette of the Hermit’s intent started to take shape.

By reminding her of happy memories only to snatch them away entirely, the despair grew multifold.

Even if it was a known memory, if she couldn’t accept the past, the turmoil was inevitable.

She traced back through hazy memories.

Charlotte envisioned the horrific events that soon unfolded in her mind.

She thought she had overcome those memories, but it could solely be her illusion.

‘They said it was trauma reproduction.’

If she had truly accepted it, it wouldn’t be called trauma.

Perhaps it was just being recreated because a part of her heart remained unresolved.

Once it actually happened, it might be a shocking matter.

“Ahhh!”

A predetermined scream echoed in her ears.

Swish! Thud! The sounds of slicing and stabbing followed.

From the source of the noise emerged knights, cutting through the thick bushes.

A knightly order clad in armor, armed with swords and spears. It unfolded just as she remembered, so there was no reason for surprise.

Here, the witches were to be slaughtered.

Only a few witches, including Charlotte and Selina, would survive.

“Everyone, run—! Cough!”

Instead of a scream, blood poured from the mouth of the witch attempting to yell.

Charlotte unconsciously reached out her hand, but then pulled it back.

She shouldn’t be flustered. Reaching out to correct the past was pointless.

“The only answer for witches is burning at the stake. Burn them all.”

The knight commander at the front issued a brief command.

He bore the same cold look as Charlotte.

“P-Please spare us… We just wanted to hide.”

“You pests.”

Thud!

The witch, pierced through the chest, collapsed.

Until her last moment, she begged to be saved, gripping her ankle.

The commander clicked his tongue and swung his sword.

Swish! The slender woman’s head rolled across the ground.

The witches also began to resist with magic, but it was all in vain.

Their opponent was the imperial knight order. While it was hard to find them, once they did, exterminating them was a matter of time.

“Why… why are you doing this to us?”

“Oh… please, just spare the child…”

“Please, we beg you…”

“Beggars for their lives. You wretches are destined to die in hell.”

Amid the screams and dying words, the knights wielded their weapons without hesitation.

Like hunters dealing with beasts.

They swung their swords and thrust their spears with no sense of guilt.

To them, witches were pests, even beneath beasts.

Whoosh!

The dense foliage around them began to ignite.

Flames spread to the witches, now barely clinging to life.

Screams that might call for their end filled the air, mixed with the smell of blood and burning flesh.

“….”

Even in that moment, Charlotte gazed at the scene with wide eyes.

She felt no particular emotional turmoil.

Only the dim memories became vividly clear.

The sense of loss was a pain borne by all witches. There was nothing special about herself.

Charlotte had forgotten the pain of loss in her revenge.

Now, she had reached a point where her sense of revenge had dissolved into the feelings for a man.

At this very moment, her mother was taking her away.

It was a futile escape as they were doomed to be caught soon.

“…Mom.”

After that, her mother would be beheaded.

Even knowing, there was nothing she could change about the future.

Charlotte couldn’t reach out to them.

Even if she could make contact, it was just an illusion. Her real family could never return.

Whoosh─!

A piercing projectile struck her mother’s back.

She crumpled, and Charlotte, cradled in her arms, rolled on the ground.

Her trembling fingertips reached toward Charlotte.

“Sh-… Charlotte. Run away quickly….”

Till now, little Charlotte had said not a word, and even faced with her mother’s impending death, she could do nothing.

Looking back, it was utterly pathetic.

To panic in a situation where she might die alongside her family.

Footsteps echoed ominously.

And from those footsteps came the sound of slicing.

Her mother’s neck was severed from her body. Soon, her disembodied head was raised high into the air.

At that moment, there was no time to grieve. Her mother’s death felt almost surreal.

“I’m sorry, Mother.”

A word born from emotional detachment.

Even now, there was a chance to be sad, but Charlotte didn’t feel particularly sorrowful.

It was her departed mother she felt sorry for.

“Mo-Mom…?”

Little Charlotte couldn’t accept it.

She crawled along the ground, clutching the headless corpse.

“Ugh, ugh, Mom….”

From her voice came a haunting, pitiful wail.

The faint memories came flooding back, but she couldn’t feel the emotions from that time.

Charlotte, with tears streaming down her face, turned away.

The knight commander raised his sword high.

Little Charlotte was oblivious to what was about to happen while she was overwhelmed by her mother’s death.

She had positioned her neck just right, making it simple for a clean cut.

“…I didn’t die then.”

Looking back at that memory, she hadn’t actually died at that time.

Why did she survive?

In the moment the blade fell toward Charlotte’s neck.

Clang!

Instead of the sound of flesh, the sound of metal grinding echoed.

“What are you doing!”

The person who blocked the attack was a young man.

He was similarly attired, but his expression screamed something entirely different than that of the knights.

The commander’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Hah… what do you think you’re doing?”

“Lower your sword. Bern.”

“What are you— come on. There’s a limit to how reckless one can be, Hero. Are you planning to defy His Majesty’s order?”

Hero.

Charlotte gazed at the man called by that title.

The man’s gaze fell downward. Following his eyes led to little Charlotte.

“Mo-Mom! Mommm….”

She was still clinging to her mother’s corpse, sobbing miserably.

Her entire body was drenched in her mother’s blood.

“Do you not see what’s in front of you, Sir Bern?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look around you. The knights are slaughtering frail women and children.”

“These are all witches. We must eradicate the pests that gnaw at the Empire.”

“…Is that what you call this?”

“I came knowing all that, didn’t I? How couldn’t you? Back then, I couldn’t defy the Emperor’s command. Now seeing it, your mind has changed?”

“….”

“Do you think they look like women to you? Don’t be mistaken. They are all witches, witches. One day, they will bring great harm to the Empire.”

“Even so, this is unacceptable.”

“Hah! Living in your fairy tale. You just stand by and watch. We’ll take care of it.”

Bern shoved the Hero and raised his sword again.

However, the Hero didn’t just stand idly by. He pointed his sword at Bern in defiance.

“…What are you really doing?”

“Lower your sword, Sir Bern. I do not wish to fight you.”

Charlotte captured both his sword and face in her eyes.

The blade, shimmering with a brilliant light, was undoubtedly a Holy Sword.

“…Lucas.”

Lucas’s face strangely felt familiar.

Was it because he resembled the Boss? No, it wasn’t that.

“I’ve seen you before.”

The memories from ten years ago were hazy, but slowly, they began to coalesce.

Lucas’s face was strikingly similar. Among the fragmented memories she had tucked away, there had indeed been a presence of Lucas.

She surmised it wasn’t a manufactured memory.

A feeling of doubt arose on the other hand.

Though it had been ten years, she shouldn’t have forgotten what Lucas looked like.

Yet, all this time, she hadn’t known Lucas’s relation to her.

“…Why?”

Had she misread things? Was it truly a memory manipulated by the Hermit?

To manipulate not just the reproduced trauma but to edit her very memories? That seemed impossible.

– There are memories that you’ve unconsciously forgotten. Maybe they’ve been buried under shock or the passage of time. In any case, you can bring those memories back. The same goes for recreating the fears of the past.

Naturally, that assumption fell flat.

There must have been a certain trigger for her memories to disappear.

Clang!

Thoughts shattered as she observed the two men clashing swords.

She focused solely on Lucas. Facing him, who stood with his back turned to her, was a plea from ten years prior.

Charlotte wished he had saved her back then.

And now, having seen him before her, she realized clearly.

“…You saved me back then too.”

It was a life he had saved ten years ago.

Whether in life or death, she owed him her life.

Something unknown welled up within her heart.

More than gratitude, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Charlotte approached Lucas.

Her small height barely reached his shoulder, identical to the Boss’s height.

Every aspect of Lucas could not help but overlap with the Boss.

Beyond just appearance, he had always saved and protected her. He was a man who sacrificed himself for Charlotte.

“You’ve always…”

Charlotte clutched her chest while gazing at him.

Feelings of love and sorrow surfaced in a bitter smile.

She had forgotten the sense of loss through revenge, and now had forgotten her vengeance through a man.

Now, it seemed she could never forget this man.

Her heart raced, and her hands trembled.

The feelings toward him felt so undeniably clear.

“Thank you.”

Sadly, there would be no way for it to reach him.

Since it wouldn’t be conveyed, she found herself able to speak once more.

“I cherish you.”

Even if there were rivals around him, and even with the differences in status, Charlotte no longer cared.

Even if he wouldn’t accept, it wouldn’t matter either.

She told herself this was merely practice.

“I… love you. So much that I can’t live without you. I want to dedicate all of myself to you. Please, I wish you would understand this heart of mine.”

Should she return, she’d be sure to confess her feelings to him, Charlotte resolved.

*

‘…What is this?’

Even though she should have lost consciousness, Charlotte saw a change in her level.

Had it gone down from 92 to 90? Well, that made sense since she wasn’t wielding her staff.

Numbers weren’t altered, but it was the nearby issue that caught her attention.

[Lv. 90 (MAX!)]

MAX was painted in a deep pink.

It was the first time she had seen this level display.

…What the heck is going on?

 

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