Isekai Mahou wa Okureteru! (WN)

Unpleasant Memory

—The girl had once had a dream.

A very normal, very ordinary dream: to protect the place where she'd been born as well as the people who had raised her.

For people born to this world, particularly those who were living proper lives, this was more or less a desire they all held in common.

This girl lived as those nameless masses did, with that dream guiding her.

There was, however, a distinct difference between that girl and the others who shared her dream. She was, in fact, anything but a normal human. Instead, she was born the scion of an ancient line of spirits, apostles of the Goddess Arshuna. It was her duty to repel the invasions of the Varied Races, and so she had come to be known as the Miko. (TN: The characters here are "神子", an alternative to the more commonly used "巫女". These characters literally translate to "God's child".)

As the girl tirelessly developed her swordsmanship, she'd often hear, "Spirits are the Goddess Arshuna's gift to humanity, a rare power that exists to defend against the Varied Races."

And so defeat was not an option.

To protect the peaceful lives of the people, this was a power that could not be allowed to disappear.

And so the girl continued to live, praying constantly to the Goddess Arshuna even as she ceaselessly practiced her swordsmanship. On occasion, she'd make her way north to repel the invasions of the Varied Races, laying their raiding parties to waste. And so the days passed, the girl continually able to realize her dream.

Even though it left her without even the possibility of realizing the happiness of being born a woman, the girl never gave up on her dream.

But dreams come to an end.

When the new Maou ascended to the throne, her dream vanished like the popping of a bubble.

By the time the news reached the capital, it was already far too late. A swarming flood of a million strong of the Varied Races swept through the north. Cities and villages disappeared in their wake, swallowed by this ferocious threat.

Overwhelming numbers. Moreover, each individual member of the Varied Races displayed a power far exceeding human ability. Their indomitable might coupled with their staggering numbers left humanity in complete and utter despair.

That notwithstanding, the girl fought to keep hope alive, infinitesimal though it might be. To protect her homeland and its people, she would continue to swing that sharp blade for as long as there was yet breath in her body.

Before her power as a Spirit and her divine swordsmanship, countless members of the Varied Races were transformed into a mountain of corpses.

The girl was strong. Stronger even than any of the North's most elite troops. That strength, however, availed them not as they were swept away by the violent, overpowering might of the enemy.

Beneath the force of crushing malice, the girl's dream shattered. The girl's homeland was trampled by the invading force, and the lives of those whom she had fought to protect were cut tragically short.

That overwhelming power was absolute even when it came to the girl.

The girl suffered defeat at the hands of a leader of the Varied Races' army, his strength as terrible as though evil itself had been made manifest. Worse still, after her loss, she had been made the victim of a shameful and vile curse.

Perhaps this is my end, the girl thought, resigning herself to the fate her companions had met: for this, her homeland, to be her final resting place. She had fought that wretched enemy general to her very last and dealt him injuries from which he would never recover.