"Come on, kid, swing at it harder!"
{Heavy Anabel panting sounds}
"Y-Yes S-ir."
It's been around a month since I began my slave work at the local blacksmith shop, and so far, I have been pushed to my limit every single day. The old man was ruthless when it came to it. I was more like a slave than an employee.
Well, actually, I was worse than a slave; at least slaves got free housing and food, and I was still not being paid a dam penny for all my work. The worst part was that there was no sign of my weapon at all. Just how much longer did I have to wait!?
So far, I had chopped tons of wood, gone to the mountains to mine for metals, and watched after the furnace heat while not wearing any protective clothing, by the way. So, like, where was my weapon?!
The old man always ignored me whenever I pressed him about it, saying stuff like: "You still haven't even earned a dager kid!" What the heck!? That was a lie, wasn't it!? There was no way my labor was so undervalued.
Whatever, at least my parents looked more proud of me, albeit I don't know what they were proud of. I was just being exploited for a mere chance of obtaining a weapon, so what was there to be proud of?
I couldn't understand them, but then again, compared to me, my new parents were just little children playing "family." Dad was twenty-six, while my mother was only twenty-four, and I was ten. Geez, my family was fucked.
I best not think about it that deeply, or I'll get traumatized for life. Anyhow, despite how weird people were in this world, it was still mildly civilized. Not much crime was going on, at least not in my small town.
Bullying, on the other hand well, was out of hand now. At first, my bullies only showcased their magic while verbally abusing me; lately, it has gotten a lot more physical, with them now messing with me every chance they get.
I have got my hair messed up with air magic and been drenched in water occasionally. That's not all, though. I have also been hit and kicked on the floor because I have no magical powers, dam those stupid kids.
It's not like I choose to be like this; a Goddess cursed me to be unfit for magic. It wasn't my fault at all! Why wouldn't they leave me alone about it? Was it funny to them? Was I their entertainment? DAM THEM!
I had been holding off my emotions and rage inside me. I was trying to be a calm and reasonable girl, but ever since I began working at the blacksmith shop, something had been cooking within me.
I don't know when or how, but one day, while being kicked on the floor, something snapped within me. I took the beating like always, but when they let me stand up, I ran towards them and began to demolish them with raw strength.
Why was I taking their beatings? They were scrawny losers, after all. So why was I so hellbent on being a "Good girl"? What would happen if someone just slightly messed them up a little bit, right? There was nothing wrong with beating the shit out of the bad guys, was there?
Besides, the insane work I was put through had hardened me and made me way more resilient to pain than anyone else, so why was I still holding back? Screw that; I chose violence that day until they humbled me.
"Don't think you're hot shit, you bitch!"
"sVita Aqua SLICE!"
"sVita air slash!"
They had stopped me and hurt me so badly with only two attacks. I was out of commission so fast; it was unfair. I had worked so hard for my strength, so why was it trampled on so quickly? Dam the GODS!
The bullies did not even have the minor decency to call for an adult for help. They had just sliced me with magic and left me bleeding out on the ground while I was begging for help, barely being able to breathe.