Prologue: Anata ga kirai ​​desu

Li-Jua was born into a world that had already decided her purpose. From the moment she took her first breath, she was labeled, a Healer, the next in a long and prestigious line of those who mended wounds and purified ailments. The blood of the greatest healers in the empire flowed through her veins, but she wanted none of it.

As a child, she had once been warm and hopeful, with a gentle heart that longed for kindness. Her deep green eyes, filled with curiosity, had once sparkled with life, and her laughter had been as light as the wind. She had dreamed of a life filled with adventure, of meeting heroes, of hearing their stories while sitting by the fire. But such innocence did not last long.

Her childhood was not one of warmth and love but of rigid expectations and relentless discipline. The moment she could walk, she was forced to sit in dimly lit halls, surrounded by dusty tomes filled with spells of restoration and purification. Her mother, a woman with cold eyes and a voice sharper than steel, would strike her hands with a wooden rod whenever she refused to recite the chants properly. Her father, though silent, was no better, his approval measured only in how obediently she followed orders.

Yet, despite their cruelty, she was intelligent. She memorized every incantation, learned every technique, and became the most gifted Healer her clan had ever seen. But she did it out of spite, not devotion. If they were going to force her into this life, she would master it so completely that no one could ever claim she wasn't good enough. Still, in the dead of night, she would escape the confines of her studies and train in secret.

She was different. Her body did not obey the limits of an ordinary human. Strength surged through her small frame, her reflexes sharp enough to dodge arrows in mid-air. She once shattered a wooden training dummy with a single strike, her hands aching from the impact. But when her mother saw her, she was punished, not for the damage, but for wasting time on meaningless pursuits. "A Healer does not need strength," her mother spat, locking her in the temple chambers for a week with nothing but books and silence.

The clan saw her abilities as an anomaly, a mistake, a threat to tradition. The beatings grew worse when she resisted, when she refused to heal on command, when she lashed out instead of obeying. Her uncles and older cousins, healers and battle-tested adventurers, saw her as a joke, a weakling meant to serve rather than fight. "You are nothing but a tool," her uncle sneered one evening, grabbing her wrist and twisting it until she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. "A tool does not talk back."

She hated them. She hated their expectations, their hypocrisy, the way they sought to break her just because she did not fit into the mold they had crafted for her. Her so-called friends were no better, other children of the clan, raised in the same strict traditions, mocked her mercilessly. "The Healer who wants to fight," they would jeer, shoving her down into the dirt. "You're a disgrace to your bloodline."

Every night, she nursed bruises, both on her skin and deep within her heart. She trained alone, hidden in the dense forests beyond the clan's lands, pushing herself harder, faster, stronger. If they would not acknowledge her for who she truly was, then she would become something beyond their comprehension. A being that could not be controlled. A force of her own making.

Her once soft features hardened with time. The warmth in her emerald eyes turned into a cold, calculating stare, and her lips, once prone to laughter, now twisted only into scowls. Her beauty, undeniable even under the weight of her suffering, had become something fearsome, her pale ivory skin, her long waves of chestnut brown hair flowing like silk, all wrapped in the pristine white robes of a Healer. A cruel irony, that someone so broken had to wear the garments of purity.

Li-Jua never had a grand ambition. She never dreamed of fame, power, or adventure. Unlike the warriors who trained from childhood to carve their names into history, or the mages who sought to unlock the universe’s mysteries, she longed only for peace. Her dream was simple: to own a small tavern, tucked away in a bustling crossroads, where she could spend her days listening to travelers' stories, sharing laughter over a good drink, and watching the world pass by from the safety of her own little corner.

But dreams were luxuries she was never allowed to have.

Born into one of the most prestigious Healer bloodlines in the empire, Li-Jua was never given a choice in her fate. The moment she displayed talent, far beyond even the most gifted of her clan, her life was decided for her. Her skills, honed not out of passion but out of necessity, became a tool for others to wield. When word of her abilities reached the ears of the imperial court, her clan saw an opportunity. Without hesitation, they offered her as the newest Healer to serve in the elite adventuring teams of the empire, an honor, they claimed, but in reality, it was nothing more than a convenient way to be rid of her defiance while elevating their own status.

She never wanted to be a Healer. She never wanted to be anything. But once again, her desires meant nothing.