I, Who Only Had Effort as a Virtue, Reincarnated as a Talented Yet Lazy Villain

—Rosalinde’s Perspective—

From a young age, I was raised amidst indulgence.

As the eldest daughter among the three Duke families in the Borigon Kingdom, my parents readily granted my every request, and those around me showered ceaseless praise and flattery.

Adding to that, my natural talent was genuinely overwhelming.

In academics, swordsmanship, or music, I never found myself bested by peers my age. In the realm of swordsmanship, I was resolved not to concede even to most adults.

Thus, as I observed the entrance exam at Bandon Academy, my heart brimmed with delight.

This entrance examination primarily involved one-on-one duels among applicants to determine their passage or failure.

While nobles were typically favored, commoners could only secure success with exceptional abilities.

It’s akin to a staged performance, really.

Nonetheless, they do extend an opportunity to commoners, showcasing the nobles’ superiority and instilling hope in the common populace.

Of course, no noble offspring truly took this exam seriously.

Everyone approached it nonchalantly, with no intent to invest genuine effort.

Yet even under these circumstances, their collective weakness was stark.

Their swordsmanship was lackluster, footwork and balance were clumsy, and their body mechanics amateurish.

Immersing myself in amusement, I looked down upon my peers.

This was my diversion, an essential tool to nurture my inflated ego.

I hadn’t exerted much effort.

Things simply fell into place.

In truth, witnessing desperate struggles and tireless exertion repulsed me.

That’s what I thought back then—.

“Next up is the match between Lady Rosalinde Balschmied and Master Benno Auschtad.”

The teacher acting as referee announced.

Benno Auschtad’s son, huh…

Based on what I’d heard, he projected a similar air to mine.

Arrogant, insolent, and prone to idleness.

However, the distinction between him and me lay in how we displayed these traits.

I remained conscientious of my appearance and reputation, while he seemed less concerned.

If only he could navigate situations more adeptly.

Then again, perhaps that’s beyond his capacity.

Regardless, they all seemed remarkably inadequate.

Their sword techniques were half-hearted, footwork and balance were conspicuously amateurish.

I derived pleasure from deriding my contemporaries while immersed in amusement.

This was my chosen outlet to both entertain myself and to sustain my overblown ego.

I hadn’t invested significant effort.

I simply managed to scrape by.

In fact, witnessing others putting in considerable effort and striving fervently disgusted me.

At that point in time, this was my perspective—.

“Uh, next is a match between Lady Rosalinde Balschmied and Master Benno Auschtad.”

The referee, a teacher, proclaimed.

Auschtad’s son, huh…

From what I had heard, he projected a demeanor similar to mine.

Arrogant, insolent, and indolent.

However, the critical difference was in how we portrayed these qualities.

Unlike me, I was acutely aware of maintaining a façade in public.

It would be preferable if he displayed more skill in managing himself.

But it’s likely beyond his mental capabilities.

After all, he isn’t a genius capable of rivaling me.

I had decided this ahead of time and found joy in belittling my peers.

It was only natural, and they deserved it.

But Benno, who stood before me, exhibited a shade of intellect in his eyes that I admired, and his movements were much more refined.

“Nice to meet you.”

With that greeting, he politely lowered his head.

We hailed from noble families, making our statuses equal.

Hence, his manners were appropriate.

However, my pride obstructed me from reciprocating the gesture.

“…Hmph.”

All I could manage was a slight snort.

Yet even then, he didn’t display a displeased expression. Instead, he offered a faint smile.

I found fault with each of these actions.

Respect me more.

Admire me more, lavish me with praise, and reveal an expression of despair when victory eludes you.

However, these sentiments didn’t resonate. He poised his wooden sword as though nothing had occurred.

His posture, where strength was effortlessly contained, appeared far more refined than mine.

It bore resemblance to the Knight Commander’s stance, the only individual I couldn’t surpass.

Though while the Knight Commander’s stance radiated boldness and strength, Benno’s exhibited refinement and beauty.

A bead of sweat formed, betraying my nervousness.

A mere glimpse of that stance left me feeling cornered.

Average talent easily corners people.

This wisdom stemmed from the Knight Commander.

She elaborated further.

Individuals with moderate talent are swiftly cornered when confronted with exceptional aptitude. They grasp the talent instantly upon seeing it, simultaneously comprehending that they can never reach that level, making them susceptible to being cornered.

But at that point, the meaning of her words eluded me.

In fact, I misunderstood, thinking that my talent effortlessly cornered others.

Yet her true intent was different.

Exceptional talent indeed existed.

But regardless of how diligently one strives, no matter the effort expended, some goals remain beyond reach.

When I scanned the people around me, nobody seemed to recognize his talent.

A few teachers appeared to sense something awry, but true understanding was scarce.

“Alright, let the match commence!”

With the teacher’s shout, I launched myself forward with all my might, as if to shake off my own thoughts, wishing this were all a terrible dream.

In an instant, I closed the gap between Benno, who remained motionless. As I swung my sword, I shouted.

“Uraaaaaaaaah!”

I was certain it would connect.

If the situation persisted, I was confident of delivering a knockout blow.

But—.

“…………Huh?”

A puzzled sound escaped me.

Somewhere along the line—.

Unbeknownst to me, somewhere along the line, the wooden sword slipped from my grasp.

Initially, I failed to comprehend what had transpired.

I hadn’t felt the sensation of my sword being deflected, nor had he displayed any signs of movement.

I swung my sword, and before I knew it, the sword was gone.

It was a sensation I experienced.

A few heartbeats later, the sound of something falling reached my ears.

“Um… I’m not exactly keen on wielding a sword against a girl. Surrendering would be appreciated.”

Quietly, Benno spoke.

His words intended only for me to hear, not for others.

The speech of a strong individual.

The theory of someone strong.

—Ah, I see, so this is what defeat feels like.

I comprehended.

And simultaneously, a sense of pleasure washed over me.

Until now, no one had outmatched me, defeated me, or risen above me.

Everyone my age appeared so youthful and frail, lacking dependability.

Yet here he stood.

Before me, surpassing me, towering over me.

A blush crept up my cheeks.

Merely being stared at felt strangely embarrassing.

Ah, I understand now… So this is what it means to feel this way about the opposite sex…

My heart raced and thudded.

P-Please don’t gaze at me so intensely…

It’s truly embarrassing…

On that day, at the tender age of ten, Rosalinde Balschmied awakened to her sexuality.

In an oddly distorted manner—.