The Childhood Friend of the Villainess in a Romance Fantasy

Translator: Elisia

Editor/Proofreader: TempWane

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I truly tried my best.

In the seven years since I was reborn as a girl in this world, and the two years after regaining my memories, I had put in an enormous amount of effort to be of help to my family.

But my talent in swordsmanship was utterly hopeless. Among all my relatives in baron family, I was the worst at wielding a sword. I couldn’t emit aura, I was slow at running, and to top it off, I was the shortest in my entire family.

Maybe it was because the memories of the 27 years I lived in the modern world remained intact in my mind, even after living in this one for seven years. In the 21st century, sprinting was only necessary for certain jobs, and as for wielding a longsword— that was something you could go a whole lifetime without ever having to do.

Of course, if someone had the hobby, cosplayed, or was an athlete, it might have been different. But in my opinion, nine-tenths of humanity would never have a reason to go near a longsword.

So, my inability to do things like swordsmanship or running in this “medieval fantasy” world was probably somewhat my fault. Being born in the 21st century, having lived in a relatively peaceful part of Earth, and dying in an unexpected accident meant I was simply immensed in peace.

Still, no matter how you look at it, my short height wasn’t my fault.

And neither was the fact that my current and past lives didn’t match in gender.

“Our little darling has absolutely nothing to worry about.”

The man, towering around 2 meters 20 centimeters, with half his face covered in a beard, patted my head with a hand the size of a pot lid. His strength was enough to make me, who was already 140 centimeters tall at the age of seven, stagger.

Of course, in this world, the units were in hector and serhector, not centimeters or meters, but who cared? A ruler in centimeters would measure exactly the same anyway.

Because this was a fantasy novel world. Likely, the author had merely changed a single letter out of convenience.

“Our sweet little daughter is the smartest of anyone her age in the family.”

But Father, that’s only because I remember living until the age of thirty.

Or perhaps I received a bonus for language when I crossed over to this world.

Whatever the reason, my so-called genius would become embarrassingly mediocre knowledge once I turned fifteen.

Our family, I’d heard, served as a sort of gatekeeper for a grand ducal family ruling the North. They protected the duchy from barbarians and monsters crossing the barren northern lands. Our territory sat nestled in a valley among high mountains, a place that offered natural protection. In that way, we held an important role.

The reason we could boldly fend off such invasions with a small number of elite members was partly because our land was a natural fortress, but also because all of our family members were exceptionally tall and strong.

Apparently, a giant was among our ancestors. Likely, the reason I was already 140 centimeters tall at this age was due to that bloodline.

The problem was, despite that, I was still treated as a “little lady.” All my siblings and relatives were at least 60 centimeters taller than me. Even among kids my age, and my elder brother Harvey was already taller than our father.

Sometimes, whenever I looked up at relatives far taller than I was,

“Our daughter has nothing to worry about.”

Father would say this as he lifted me up high in his arms.

The rough beard scraping against my cheek was terribly prickly.

But warm nonetheless.

*

Fortunately, my talent shone exceptionally in areas outside of swordsmanship.

Quite exceptionally, in fact.

To be precise, they said it was an “untouched domain that no one else could step into.”

I possessed the abilities of a druid.

Our baron family had no interest whatsoever in central politics and spent our days buried in the snow-covered mountains of the North, living as naturalists.

With my father standing at 2 meters 20 centimeters, my eldest brother at 2 meters 30 centimeters, my second brother at 2 meters 40 centimeters… anyway, every man in our family was over 2 meters tall, and they weren’t just lanky; they gave the intimidating impression of being made entirely of muscle.

In our family, someone who was “only” 2 meters tall was considered small. My mother was 2 meters tall, and Father proposed to her precisely because he was smitten by her “petite stature”.

Still, the women in the family were fairly feminine in shape. Sure, when they wore dresses that showed their shoulders, their build made jaws drop, but compared to the men of the family, they had a “definitely” feminine figure.

Our family motto was “Nature does not lie.”

Well, that line was what we say in front of other families to sound impressive. In practice, our real motto would be like, “If there’s an obstacle in life, slice it open, cut it down, or break it apart,” …but let’s just set that aside for now..

In such a harsh environment, we didn’t raise any livestock in our family. With barely enough food for people, feeding animals would mean no food left for the children.

But even so, there were times when a mount is needed. When northern barbarians attacked once every few years, or if the grand duke’s house we served occasionally requested troops… whatever the reason, there were moments when cavalry was needed.

And whenever that happened, our family and even the people of our land would boldly step into the wilderness to catch a moose thriving in the mountains and ride it back.

The process was as follows.

1. Find a moose large enough not to snap under your weight.

2. Approach cautiously, bent low to avoid being noticed.

3. Charge forward and grab it by the scruff.

4. Persuade it to carry you by showing it the strength of your fist.

Note: If punches don’t work, choking can also be effective too. Just be careful with the strength to avoid suffocating it.

…Yes. Nature doesn’t lie one bit.

Anyway, the logic was that if you overpowered it, everyone would fall in line.

Nature’s law was simply survival of the ‘fittest’. Isn’t that a wonderful logic?

The problem was, most of our family members experienced crazy growth spurts around the age of seven. Regardless of gender, most baronial children were about 180 centimeters, some even close to 2 meters, by age seven. This family indeed carried the blood of giants. And by their mid to late teens, they all inevitably surpassed 2 meters.

Meanwhile, I was only 140 centimeters.

When I was five, Father found me utterly adorable. But by now, even he had to see me a bit differently.

After all, in a family where 2 meters was considered short, I was the only one who was abnormally small in comparison to everyone else. Even if the children of other families were smaller than me, within our family, I was abnormally tiny..

“Honey, wouldn’t it be too difficult to take this child along on a moose hunt?”

Mother had said this to Father.

“But my dear, we can’t just leave her alone.”

Indeed. Nature doesn’t lie.

Surviving in our family required a certain level of skill. Our family lived on that skill alone. Without it, our family members would just be a burdern, taking up space.

“It’s not like I plan to abandon the child. I just want to see if she can adapt to nature. As a member of this family, she should learn how to negotiate with nature at this age. You did the same, didn’t you?”

“I suppose that’s true…”

For reference, my mother had been 170 centimeters at my age. Even with that height, she’d been able to “negotiate” with nature well enough.

The sheer strength of our family members couldn’t even be compared to that of ordinary nobles.

To Mother, who still couldn’t entirely shake her worries, Father smiled. A smile so gentle, it could have belonged to a middle-aged Santa Claus.

“There’s no need to worry. Even if she fails to find a way to negotiate with nature, we can find another way. Perhaps she could marry into another family. Considering how small she is compared to our people, she might even fit in without standing out too much.”

“…”

After Father said that much, Mother seemed to be out of words.

“But still, we can’t exempt her from the rite that everyone in our family has passed through. I’ll keep a close watch, so you don’t need to worry too much.”

“All right, dear. But she’s such a little one. You should give her a bit more time to grow than the others.”

“I understand. Even if she doesn’t succeed this time, she’ll have more chances to try again. Eventually, she’ll manage to stand on her own. I’ll make sure of it.”

Hmm.

Even in this world, wasn’t it a bit too much for a seven-year-old to negotiate barehanded with a moose? But I decided not to voice that thought.

Well, somehow, it’d all work out.

Usually, this task would have to be faced alone, but I’d be going with Father. I wouldn’t be fighting that enormous moose by myself.

There’s no way Father would let me slip from his grasp, right?

…Wait, hold on. Didn’t he let go of me once before?