It was an unblessed birth.
Amarion had known that fact from a very young age.
Amarion Amari was born in winter. On the coldest day of the northern winter.
Due to a difficult labor, the Countess lost consciousness as soon as she gave birth, and Amarion cried her first cry in the arms of the midwives instead of her mother. Only then did Count Amari show his face, and without even looking at the child's face, he casually named her. Amarion. It was 'the heir's name'.
From that moment, Amarion became the young lord of Amari.
Her parents neglected her entirely. The Count was always holed up in his study, and the Countess didn't even want to see her daughter's face after she was weaned. The few servants in the castle took pity on the child and secretly took Amarion to the village.
The village women were much more favorable to the young lord. They fed the child thin porridge and raised her wearing cotton clothes like the other children. They called her 'Young Lady,' but it was no different from raising their own child. They were kind and gentle people.
So Amarion could not be so unhappy. Despite being unblessed.
❖ ❖ ❖
Amarion grew up quickly. Like all the people of the Amari Count's family, she was taller than her peers. Like other northern children, she held a small wooden sword and ran around the whole village with her friends.
It was a joyful time. Even in the harsh land where monsters roared every day, the children found things to laugh about. Marble games with gargoyles' magic stones, snow sledding, and kicking balls made of inflated kobold leather. No matter what they did, it was fun, and Amarion laughed a lot.
Sometimes they gathered and sat in the alleys to talk.
"In the southern villages, they sell fried meat."
"Fried? Not salted?"
"Yeah. The meat in the stew is all this big, and the potatoes are as big as a fist, they said."
"That sounds delicious..."
The children always talked about food. Whenever that happened, Amarion promised her friends.
"When I become the lord, I'll buy you a ton."
"Wow, really?"
"Yeah."
She always said that she would definitely become a great lord and buy lots of firewood and food. It was when she vaguely thought that the lord was just a high-ranking person.
However, that was not the case. In the north, the lord was the person closest to death.
At age 7, Amarion went to a friend's funeral for the first time. Despite her absurdly young age, the Count sent his daughter to the funeral instead of himself, using the excuse that she was the heir. In front of the grave of her friend who was attacked by a yeti, Amarion stood with her eyes wide open. Someone next to her cried and said that they would never see that child again. That dying was like that.
Amarion learned death that day.
At the funeral, Amarion cried until she collapsed and was sick in bed for a full week. It was said that the Count and Countess had a big fight over that, but Amarion was too sick to know anything.
After she woke up, the world had changed.
It turned out that death was scattered everywhere in Amari. The songs that Amarion had cheerfully sung with her friends, knowing nothing, were actually dirges sung at funerals, and the names of the people that adults said had left for the south were densely written on tombstones.
After golems or uruks appeared, funerals were invariably held on the outskirts of the village. Every time that happened, Amarion fell sick. Especially on the day a close adult was buried, she would cry until she fainted from lack of breath. The servants, the village chief, and the knights tried to hide the truth from the young lord, but it was impossible in a small village.
The girl stood by the grave and thought.
Dying is scary. If you die, you can't eat sorghum candy or warm corn soup. You can't hear the sound of birds or funny old knight stories, and your family misses the dead, crying every day.
Amarion hated death. She wished no one would die. So she took her wooden sword and went to see the commander of the Amari knight order.
"Young Lady, what brings you here?"
"I want to learn the sword."
The commander was flustered. Having served as the commander for decades, he was naturally an excellent swordsmanship instructor, but Amarion was still not old enough to learn the sword. Even northern children usually started swordsmanship training when they were at least 12 years old. Teaching her the sword half-heartedly and having her insist on fighting would be a big problem.
But Amarion's eyes were firm and straight.
"I will become the lord later, right?"
"That is right, Young Lady."
"And the lord is the one who protects the village."
The commander silently looked down at the tiny girl. Amarion clenched her small hands and said.
"I really like the people of our village."
"..."
"So I want to feed them lots of delicious food. I want to buy ointment for Uncle Franz who was injured in the mine, and I want to kill all the yetis that cry every night so that Lana's youngest sibling can sleep soundly."
"Young Lady..."
"To do that, we can't die. Not me, not the people. So please teach me."
The middle-aged knight couldn't bring himself to refuse the young lord's words.
That was how Amarion began to learn the sword.
❖ ❖ ❖
Amarion's skills were decent. They said that while it was hard to tell for sure because she was so young, she had a certain level of talent.
The knights implicitly expressed that it was a relief. According to what they heard, Amarion's father, Joachim Amari, had absolutely no aptitude for the sword since childhood. Now he had completely put down the sword and didn't even show his face on the battlefield, so the people of Amari were said to be deeply disappointed. Because northerners fight centered around their lord. Everyone was careful with their words in front of Amarion, but she had too good hearing to just ignore it.
And in fact, she also knew. That her father, who didn't even show his face to his daughter, let alone fight monsters at the forefront, would not be a great lord. It was the same for her mother, who stayed holed up in her room embroidering all day instead of managing the village household.
Still, it was okay. Because I, the young lord, can just work harder. Amarion thought so and swung her sword every day. She was weak now, but if she worked hard, she would become as strong as the commander, and then she could protect the people. That was Amarion's only goal.
It was around that time that she met Kirgys.
"Who are you?"
Amarion lowered the wooden sword she had been swinging for the hundredth time and asked into the air. Soon, a boy about her age slipped out from between the bushes. Unlike other northerners, the boy was wearing pitch-black fur clothes.
Amarion immediately recognized the boy's identity.
"You came down from the Black Fortress."
"...Yeah. But how did you know I was here?"
"I just saw you."
The boy stared at Amarion. But Amarion was soon distracted by the wooden dagger the boy wore at his waist. Amarion asked.
"Are you learning the sword too? Will you spar with me? No one will spar with me because I'm too young..."
The question ended sullenly. After thinking for a moment, the boy nodded.
That day's sparring was a complete defeat for Amarion. The boy moved unbelievably fast, and Amarion couldn't even block half of his attacks.
The sparring only ended after the sun set and the other bandits finished their business. Only right before they parted did the two exchange names. Hearing the name Amarion Amari, the boy, Kirgys, made a surprised expression. But soon he said nonchalantly.
"Let's fight again next time."
Amarion quickly nodded.
❖ ❖ ❖
From then on, Amarion trained twice as hard.
Kirgys was a boy, so even though he was smaller than Amarion who was the same age, he was much stronger. If her peers normally had that level of skill, she must actually be a terrible swordsman.
Despite the commander's words that she didn't need to overdo it, Amarion swung her sword from morning till night. Her mother made her embroider and memorize sheet music like daily homework, but Amarion actually preferred swordsmanship training. It was because it felt like she was working hard to protect people.
She also grew closer to Kirgys. Kirgys, a resident of the Black Mountain Range, couldn't come down often, but whenever the adults came to the village, he always found Amarion and sparred with her. Sometimes with an indifferent face, he would hand her dried seeds that bandits ate as snacks or beef jerky with spicy seasoning.
Originally in the north, a person who gave you food was the best person, so Amarion quickly opened her heart to Kirgys. She also often showed Kirgys things that were only in the lord's castle, which she hadn't shown her other friends. For example, her books or embroidery frame.
"What is this?"
Kirgys's expression became strange. Amarion hesitantly explained.
"It's embroidery. They said it's drawing pictures with thread on cloth."
"I've never seen anything like this before."
Kirgys peered into Amarion's terrible floral embroidery with a subtle look in his eyes. In fact, even to her, it looked more like a sharp ice snow spirit than a flower. Feeling a bit embarrassed for some reason, Amarion quickly added.
"They say someone who's good at it can make really pretty ones. My mother's room even has a bouquet made of embroidery."
"Really? What do you use that for?"
The girl's words were suddenly blocked.
"...Actually, I don't really know either. Just, my mother said that a girl must know how to do things like this..."
"..."
"I get scolded every day for not being able to do it, am I stupid?"
"No."
Kirgys hastily shook his head. Upward-slanting purple eyes looked at Amarion.
"The adults at the fortress say that whatever you learn will be helpful later."
"Really?"
"Yeah. ...And in my eyes, this is pretty too."
Kirgys unnecessarily fiddled with the end of the cloth and added in a whisper. Amarion's eyes widened, then she smiled. Kirgys was indeed a truly kind-hearted friend.
"Still, I want to become the best at swordsmanship."
Kirgys silently nodded. Gaining a little courage from her friend's praise, Amarion picked up her wooden sword again and stood up.
The sparring continued for a long time until that evening.
❖ ❖ ❖
Amarion's skill improved rapidly. It was to the extent that the commander and other knights gave her frequent praise.
The servants set up training dummies in the empty lot behind the castle and brought her a wooden sword for Amarion's sake. Saying that it was reassuring and delightful to see the young lord of the north working so hard. Thanks to that, Amarion was able to train to her heart's content every day until late at night.
However, eventually the news reached the ears of her mother, Ingrid Amari-Patel.
"What is this behavior?"
"M-mother?"
Flustered, Amarion gripped her sword tightly.
It was an ordinary afternoon. Swinging her sword in the narrow empty lot of the castle, Amarion was so surprised to see her mother suddenly burst in that she lost her words. Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, her mother's face was flushed with disgust and anger as if looking at a thief. Her bloodshot eyes scanned her loosely tied messy platinum hair, shabby fur clothes, and the bandages wrapped around her rough palms in turn. The Countess spat out.
"I wondered where you were wandering around throwing away your embroidery frame, and you were doing this kind of thing behind my back?"
"Mother, I..."
"Why are you holding a sword!"
The lady screamed like a shriek. Amarion froze at the shout of her mother, who was always picture-perfectly cold. White hands grabbed her daughter's shoulders and shook her violently.
"If you were born as a noble's daughter, you should dress nicely and think about marrying into a good family, why are you doing such a thing?! The only way for a woman to change her life is marriage. The only way to escape this insect-like town is marriage! Even after seeing how your mother lives, you..."
The hand holding her daughter's shoulder trembled violently. Amarion was so scared that she begged unthinkingly.
"Mother, Mother. I was wrong. Please don't be angry..."
"No? What could a young child like you have done wrong. It's all because the servants didn't serve you properly. To let the young lady they serve do such a thing, they are as incompetent as their lord..."
Lady Ingrid snatched the wooden sword with a face like a demon. And then she began to beat the servants who ran out of the castle at the commotion.
"Aagh!"
"My lady, please calm down!"
"Mother, don't do this!"
I was wrong, I was wrong...
Amarion shielded the old maids who had practically raised her with her whole body. Her face was already covered in tears.
She could have snatched the sword held loosely by the noblewoman if she just set her mind to it, but Amarion couldn't bring herself to do it. It was because her heart ached too much. Strangely, her mother, who was frighteningly angry, looked as if she were in pain like someone bitten by a wolf.
The pandemonium only ended when the knights who were training nearby came running. At the commander's shout that a northerner who couldn't use a sword would be caught and killed by monsters while walking down the road, her mother let go of the wooden sword.
Then she went into her room and never taught Amarion again.
❖ ❖ ❖
It was a sad thing. That her parents didn't acknowledge her efforts. Young Amarion was deeply upset. She went to her mother's room several times and begged, but in the end, she couldn't persuade her mother. So her heart shrank even more.
Still, the girl found comfort in swordsmanship again. As her peers slowly started learning the sword too, the hard training became a bit more fun.
Amarion swung her sword with the children every day, and ate her meals at the village chief's or her friends' houses instead of the castle. The lord's castle, where all the servants had quit and she only occasionally ran into her drunken father, was not a home to Amarion. It was better to stay at the training ground all day.
As much as that, her swordsmanship skill continued to improve. Amarion could now use a sword as well as any ordinary adult. When she caught an Ice Wolf by herself, the village chief's family rejoiced as if it were their own business and even boiled a hearty stew for her.
"Amazing, Young Lady! To use a sword so well at your age!"
Amarion blushed and shook her head.
"No, I just started learning earlier than others... I can't even memorize things like medicinal herbs well, and I'm not good at cooking like Sophie..."
"What does that matter? Everyone just has to do what they're good at."
The village chief's wife encouraged her vigorously. She was a skilled healer.
"For the future lord to be such a great swordsman, it's really reassuring, isn't it?"
Is that so?
Amarion became a little happy. She was worried because she still only lost to Kirgys, but it was a relief that she was at least at a level to receive praise.
The village chief scooped up his stew and nodded.
"Of course, it's a blessing. They say the monsters are going to increase anyway..."
"Dear."
The wife glared. It meant why he was saying such things in front of the child. But Amarion had already heard it.
"The monsters are going to increase? Why?"
"...It's only a guess for now, Young Lady."
The wife sighed and scooped more stew into Amarion's bowl.
"The bandits reported that there are more 'Circles' in the Black Mountain Range than usual. So naturally, the number of monsters and the scale of the wave will grow."
"Is it serious?"
"Not to that extent."
The village chief, who had been watching the mood, quickly interjected. He smiled with a good-natured face.
"This level of change has happened a few times before. We are northerners. We don't collapse that easily."
Amarion held her spoon in her mouth and nodded.
Come to think of it, she had never seen the Amari knight order lose. People died every year from the cold and monster attacks, but the final defense line had never been breached. That was the pride of the northern knights.
The wife fussily brought more roughly cut rye bread.
"Here, eat a lot, Young Lady. Leave such matters to the adults."
Amarion was soon distracted by the bread.
❖ ❖ ❖
It was the same days over and over. Holding the sword until her palms became calloused, Amarion turned 14 before she knew it.
Following the knight order around, Amarion learned many things. Where monsters lived, their weaknesses, smells or sounds they hated, the types that became especially violent when awakened from sleep, and monsters that slept during the day and were only active at night. Amarion absorbed the knights' long-accumulated experience like water.
The senior knights were proud of such a young lord.
"The Young Lady will surely become a great knight."
Hearing such words made her feel proud sometimes.
But that proud feeling often sank completely whenever she met Kirgys, who came down from the mountain range. She simply couldn't beat Kirgys.
At the end of the sparring that continued since morning, Amarion put down her sword and sighed.
"Why am I so weak?"
Kirgys shook his head.
"You're strong enough, Marion."
"I don't know. When you become an adult, you'll really be bigger than me. Then I'll never be able to beat you."
Amarion said sullenly. Kirgys was speechless as always. So Amarion confessed honestly.
"I'm worried I won't be able to protect the people."
Kirgys came and sat next to her. He, who was already hunting in the mountain range with the adults of the fortress, said quietly.
"People die. Regardless of whether you are strong or not."
"..."
"You have to remember, Marion. You can't protect everything alone."
"I know. I know that too, but..."
Amarion bit her lip tightly.
In the north, death was a given. By accident, by cold, by disease. Since childhood, people died easily. They said that for the past 10 years, there were fewer monsters than usual, so it was rather better than before.
But Amarion grew up in everyone's hands. To the girl ignored by her family, each and every one of the Amari territory's people was no different from her own flesh and blood.
Amarion confessed in a whisper.
"My mother always said so. That I don't know how to do anything. My father also calls me a useless girl whenever he sees me."
"...Marion, that's..."
"But the village people always tell me I'm good with the sword and that I'll be a good lord. Those people are too precious to me. More than my own life. So I really want to become strong. So that no one dies..."
Kirgys closed his mouth. His expression was subtle. It was by no means an agreeing expression, but instead of arguing further with Amarion, he said.
"You're doing well enough even now."
Amarion looked back at Kirgys. Perhaps embarrassed by the rare cheesy words he let out, the tips of his ears were red. She also felt somewhat shy for some reason and averted her eyes. Looking at the ground unnecessarily, Kirgys quickly brought up another topic.
"...When this year's wave ends, I'll teach you how to come up to the fortress."
"Really? Will I be able to go? You said the bandits' path is very dangerous."
"I travel alone, so why can't you come? You're as terrifying as an Uruk."
"What? Are you making fun of me?"
The two bickered like that for a long time, and only parted ways around the time the sun was high in the sky.
❖ ❖ ❖
Back in the plaza, the lunch pot was already boiling. It was because winter was approaching and the food supply had changed to a rationing system. Sophie, who was diligently stirring the thin soup, greeted her happily.
"Did you meet Kirgys, Young Lady?"
"Yeah."
"You should have brought him to the village! I wanted to see his handsome face."
"The fact that he doesn't talk much is also charming!"
"Right!"
The girls of her age laughed giggly. Amarion tilted her head.
Strangely, Kirgys was popular among the girls. They said it was because he was handsome, but that was something Amarion, who had been friends with him since childhood, couldn't quite understand. Because unfortunately, as a northerner, silver hair wasn't Amarion's taste. Besides, he was very shy, so even when he came down occasionally, he only talked to Amarion, which was also a bit questionable to be seen as charming.
Well, still, Kirgys was really kind.
Amarion came to a rough conclusion on her own and sat in the corner with soup, dried ham, and a piece of bread. She was extremely hungry from the sparring.
While Amarion was stuffing bread into her cheeks like a squirrel, a messenger riding a reindeer suddenly rushed in.
"Knight Order! Where is the Amari Knight Order?!"
"Over there."
As the startled people pointed to the knight order's headquarters, the messenger disappeared inside in an instant.
What is it?
Flustered, Amarion stood up awkwardly. And at the same time, voices filled with dismay erupted from inside the headquarters. Without even having time to think, Amarion ran into the headquarters.
"What's going on?"
"Young Lady."
The commander looked back at the young lord. He had a very flustered face.
"Lord and Lady Mule have fallen in battle."
What?
Amarion's eyes widened.
Lord and Lady Mule were both quite strong knights. They were also a young couple with a 2-year-old son. Having served as apprentice knights in the Mule Knight Order from a fairly young age, they weren't the type to die to ordinary monsters. Moreover, it wasn't even the monster wave period yet, so why?
The commander explained with a sorrowful face.
"An old copper mine was newly discovered near Mule, and while investigating, they woke up the sealed Ice Golems. And not just one or two, but dozens of them."
Amarion's complexion turned pale.
Ice Golems were monsters just as hard to deal with as Uruks. Their attack power wasn't strong, but swords didn't pierce them properly, so a lot of manpower was needed to kill them.
The commander said immediately.
"The Lord and his Lady have fallen in battle, and the Mule Knight Order has also taken a heavy blow. We must go help them right away."
"I'll go too."
The knights blocked Amarion from stepping forward.
"We know your skill, Young Lady, but it's too dangerous. We will go alone this time."
"But..."
"We will leave a few knights behind, so please protect Amari together with them. A pack of Ice Wolves or Kobolds that sensed the commotion might run rampant."
Amarion bit her lip tightly. Honestly, she wanted to follow them, but she also understood their words. No matter how outstanding her skill was for her age, Amarion was still an un-knighted rookie. It was right for her to stay here in charge of guarding.
"...I understand. Please come back safely."
"Yes."
The knights bowed their heads. Amarion gripped her sword anxiously.
❖ ❖ ❖
The Amari Knight Order urgently marched out. As soon as the knight order left, leaving only the messy footprints of reindeer, the people of Amari hastily armed themselves and set up wooden barricades around the castle walls. It was what they did every time the knight order was away. Knights and non-knights alike took turns keeping watch.
Behind the barricades, the children whispered.
"Is the story about Lord Mule true?"
"No way, the adults who went to Mule to watch the swordsmanship tournament said the Lord and Lady there were incredibly strong."
"Will our knights be okay?"
Amarion hugged her sword tightly without saying a word. She didn't want to scare her friends by telling them the details. And it still didn't feel real. It was an unwritten rule that northern lords did not leave their lands, so she hadn't met them often, but both the lords of Mule and Siland were far better leaders than her father. She couldn't believe that such people had left the world so suddenly.
Countless sounds brushed past the ears of her who was lost in thought. The voices of children, the footsteps of knights, the sound of iron striking stone, and a faint vibration.
'...?'
Amarion snapped her head up. No one else seemed to have heard this sound, as the area behind the castle walls was still noisy. Amarion ran up the stone steps and peeked over the castle wall.
In the distance across the snowy field, a cloud of dust was rising.
—It wasn't just Ice Wolves or anything like that.
"The monsters are coming!"
The ranger, startled by the young lord's shout, examined outside the wall with a telescope.
And soon, a loud horn blew.
"Close the gates! It's a wave!"
❖ ❖ ❖
Her thin arms trembled. Amarion gritted her teeth, threw rocks down the castle wall, and poured boiling molten iron. The kobolds clinging to the wall fell off screaming. However, uruks and golems immediately trampled their way in.
Thud, the old castle wall shook with a heavy sound.
"Aagh!"
A scream was heard from the gate. Amarion hastily turned her body. The people who were blocking the gate with wooden barricades shouted.
"The gate is breaking!"
"Damn it, bring more shields!"
But it was useless. Bang! With a sharp sound, the wooden pillars blocking the gate were sent flying. Amarion hastily drew her sword. The other knights did the same.
"Those who cannot fight, take shelter! Those who can fight, buy time!"
The girls who had been tending to the patients ran out with swords. The old man keeping watch in the plaza, and the rangers who usually fought with bows, did the same.
And, a pack of wolves rushed in through the instantly breached gate.
"Uaaagh!"
Screams ran rampant. The knights blocked the giant Ice Wolves, as tall as a person, with all their might. Even though they wore armor, their flesh was pierced by the monsters' sharp teeth.
Amarion thought, seized by terror.
Actually, this level wasn't even worth calling a wave. In winters with an unusually high number of monsters, monsters would appear clustered like this as a precursor to a wave. It was just that level of an event, and normally they would have blocked it without difficulty.
But right now, the knight order was not in place. In the north with its small population, the knight order was too great a force. All northerners could fight, but the difference in power with a senior knight was huge. There was a limit to what apprentice knights or retired knights could do.
Right here, right now, Amarion was powerless.
"We'll fight too!"
"No! Go hide somewhere quickly!"
Amarion whipped her head around. Her friends holding swords were arguing on the side of the road. A knight who barely avoided the wolf's fangs while trying to stop them tumbled over. The wolf's gaze turned to the children.
Without even having time to think, Amarion screamed.
"Run away! Just run away! ...Ah."
Ah.
Before Amarion could even reach them, the wolf pounced on the children. With a scream, the small body went limp. A man who was fleeing while supporting his sick mother blocked the children's path. With a roar, his sword broke, and blood flowed from his mouth.
"A, Amarion..."
The child who sat down with his legs giving out looked at her with eyes full of tears. Amarion reached out with all her might.
But immediately after, an ice crystal shot by a snow spirit pierced the child's chest.
"...!"
Amarion couldn't even scream. Relying almost on instinct, she blocked the wolf's foreleg. Through her blurred vision from tears, the situation around her came into view at a glance.
It was pandemonium. The weak who couldn't hold a sword, the old and the sick, and the children were dying horrifically. They were Amarion's people. They were the ones who raised her, and the ones she swore to protect.
'What's so strong about me.'
Amarion blamed herself as she cried.
'I can't do anything. Far from everything, I can't even save half. What's the point of someone like me...'
At that moment, the people who had lit the beacon to warn of danger and guarded the wall shouted.
"The knight order is coming!"
Soon, the Amari Knight Order riding reindeers rushed into the ruined castle. Even with their ragged appearance from injuries already sustained, the knights gritted their teeth and began to fight upon seeing their overturned homeland.
When everything was over, the sun was setting in the sky.
"Lady Amarion."
"..."
"Young Lady!"
Amarion slowly raised her head. She saw the distorted face of a knight covered in blood and stains. Her empty yellow eyes slowly scanned the knights. They all looked exhausted and wounded.
Amarion asked.
"Where is the commander?"
One knight handed over what he was holding. It was the epaulet symbolizing the commander of the Amari Knight Order. He sobbed.
"The commander couldn't make it out of the abandoned mine."
"...What?"
"While protecting us and the knights of Mule, the mine collapsed..."
Amarion stood blankly. Nothing felt real.
The commander is dead? The man who kindly reviewed her swordsmanship until just yesterday, who was like a teacher and family?
No, everyone was like that. Just this morning, this land was full of living people. Just a moment ago, everything seemed fine...
Actually, nothing was fine.
Amarion thought.
This was a land where people died from just a single moment's misalignment. The suffering that northerners had endured for hundreds of years was a disaster. A suffering that continued because someone had to live under the mountain range and protect the kingdom. That long history could not be changed by half-hearted effort. A swordsman merely at her level couldn't change anything. Nothing at all.
Amarion silently put the commander's epaulet in her pocket and helped the people. She moved the injured to the healers, and collected the bodies, covering them with straw so they could be buried when the ground thawed. No one could bring themselves to speak to the young lord who moved silently with an empty face.
She felt nauseous because she knew too many of the dead. When she found the village chief's wife's body at the medical station, she shed tears silently streaming down.
The Siland Knight Order arrived a little while after that.
"I'm too late, damn it."
Pendragon of Siland spat out a small curse. This seasoned lord, like the Amari Knight Order, had rushed upon receiving Mule's request for aid, joined forces with knights from other regions, and barely managed to defend Mule. While fighting for a long time like that, a beacon went up from Amari, and Pendragon and the Siland Knight Order sent Amari's knights back to their hometown, moved Muriel, the sole heir of the Mule Earldom, to a safe place, and then rushed over immediately.
"Even so, for the situation to turn out like this..."
"..."
Amarion knew too. That Pendragon and the Siland Knight Order had done their best. Siland was always the land with the most monsters, and right before a wave, it would be even worse. Moreover, there was an unwritten rule among the northern lords that they shouldn't easily leave their lands. In this situation, for a lord to appear with such a force was a considerable display of sincerity.
Even knowing all that, she felt resentful. If only they had come a little earlier, maybe fewer people would have died.
At the same time, self-loathing surged up. To be having such thoughts. Without even needing to think such things, if only I had been stronger...
Pendragon dismounted from the reindeer. He made a pained expression when he saw the iron epaulet sticking out of Amarion's pocket.
"A regretful knight has passed."
"..."
"Child, Amarion."
The old knight bent his knee. Amarion looked silently at the lord of Siland, whom she hadn't seen in years. He spoke just like a kind grandfather.
"You've been through a difficult time. You're still a young child."
"..."
"You did as much as you could. Leave the rest to the adults."
It was such a kind word. But Amarion already knew she couldn't do that.
Pendragon asked the village chief in a sharp voice.
"Where is the lord of Amari?"
"The Lord did not come out."
"What, still? No matter what, if it's come to this, the lord should step up! Opening the granary, requesting support items from the royal palace—these are all things that can only be done with the lord's seal!"
The village chief, who had lost his wife just a moment ago, said in an agonized voice.
"You know it, Lord Pendragon. Joachim from the start..."
Pendragon's face flushed with anger.
"Joachim... I'll kill this bastard right now."
"I'll go."
Everyone's gaze gathered. Amarion raised her head. Her hoarse, broken voice was unfamiliar even to herself.
"I'll go get it."
Amarion immediately mounted a reindeer. Leaving behind Pendragon's shouting voice, she ran toward the castle.
❖ ❖ ❖
The lord's castle was quiet, making the commotion outside seem pointless. Amarion strode through the dreary castle.
Going up the stairs, she ran into her mother. The Countess, holding her sewing basket, looked at her daughter, who was covered in blood and dust, with a horrified face. But Amarion didn't give her mother a glance and kept walking.
Soon, the study appeared. Amarion usually didn't go near the study. Her father was always in the study, and when he drank, he became especially violent. When he was angry, he would throw things or hurl insults at her, calling her a useless girl. But now, such things didn't scare her at all. Amarion flung the door open and went inside. As expected, the sharp smell of strong alcohol stung her nose. Joachim Amari, as always, was drinking on the sofa.
"Father."
He replied without even turning his head.
"Get lost."
"Grant me a knighthood."
At those words, the Count finally turned his head. The face she saw for the first time in a very long while was ugly with a dirty beard. He frowned when he saw the appearance of his daughter, who was covered in blood.
"You, what is that..."
"The commander is dead."
Drunken eyes blinked slowly. Amarion continued in a toneless voice.
"A lot of other people died too. So we need someone to take charge."
"..."
"So grant me a knighthood and hand over the lord's ring."
Since you wouldn't want to do it, Father.
She didn't spit out the last words. A chilling silence filled the room. Amarion looked at her father with eyes devoid of any emotion. Even if he cursed, asking why someone like her was born, as he usually did, she didn't care. Because the person who thought herself the most useless right now was Amarion herself.
The Count, looking at the blood-soaked clothes and the sword in her hand with blurry eyes, finally took the ring off his finger.
"...Take it, this trivial thing."
Thud, Amarion silently picked up the ring that was thrown carelessly and rolled at her feet. Joachim turned his back and started drinking again. It was still an attitude of not wanting to get involved in anything.
Amarion gripped the ring tightly until her hand bled and left the study.
❖ ❖ ❖
Returning, Amarion told everyone. That she would act as the acting commander and acting lord.
The people of Amari tried to dissuade the young lord. They said there was no need for her, still so young, to bear the heavy burden alone. But Pendragon said with a thoughtful face.
"Are you really okay with this? The lord of the north is a difficult position. Even if you don't do it right away, I can help you."
"Lord Pendragon, you have to take care of Mule too."
Amarion pointed out quietly. Mule would have been destroyed much more than Amari, and until young Muriel grew up, there would be no lord to serve as a center point. Pendragon, the lord of the neighboring territory, naturally had to care for Mule as well.
Pendragon looked down at her with a pitying expression. Understanding passed between their meeting eyes. It was a sentiment that only those in the same position could understand.
"...Alright. If you wish, do so."
"Lord Pendragon!"
"That child is the heir of the north. She is not a child who doesn't know what she will bear. ...But whenever it's hard, tell me anytime. Don't forget that I and the other brothers are here."
"Yes, Lord Pendragon."
Amarion threaded the ring, which was too big to fit on her finger, onto a leather cord and hung it around her neck.
Thus, 14-year-old Amarion became the acting lord of Amari.
❖ ❖ ❖
Whether fortunate or unfortunate, there wasn't much for the acting lord of Amari to do. Because the lord hadn't done anything in the lord's castle for nearly 15 years, the village chief had already taken over all the budget processing. Thanks to Sophie and the village chief, who silently did their work even in the painful situation of losing their family, Amarion could focus on her training.
As her father and mother always said, she was a useless girl who wasn't good at anything. Even the swordsmanship she thought she was a little good at was actually terrible. But despite that, Amarion had to become stronger. Because it was a position she shouldn't give up just because she lacked talent or was weak.
So Amarion trained harder than anyone else. Harder than any knight of Amari. She refined what she had learned before and what she was newly learning. After her teacher, the commander, died, her swordsmanship gradually changed into something she created herself. It was a sword that relied on sharp senses and flexibility. Faster, and stronger.
No pain was as bitter as what she had already lost. Amarion devoted herself to the sword without sleep. In the evening, she went to the castle to learn how to read reports, and at night, she found an empty lot and swung her sword.
One day, Amarion ran into Kirgys in front of her friends' graves. It was a friend she hadn't seen in a long time. He said the Black Fortress had been very busy dealing with monsters for a while. Now truly much taller than Amarion, he seemed to not know what to say. The dead friends were all children Kirgys knew too. There were few children in the north, and even fewer who survived past infancy.
Kirgys was really shy, but when the children begged him for a swordsmanship demonstration, he would gladly show them. He even clumsily joined in games like marbles that they didn't play at the fortress when Amarion was with him, and when the girls blushed and brought him wild strawberries, he would stand there not knowing what to do, making Amarion laugh.
But now only Amarion and Kirgys were left.
A bright purple gaze turned to the lord's ring hanging around Amarion's neck. Kirgys opened his mouth with sad eyes.
"...Are you okay?"
Amarion shook her head. And asked with a faint smile.
"Kirgys, will you spar with me?"
That day, Amarion beat Kirgys for the first time. Kirgys didn't say anything. After that, until the day she left Amari, Amarion never lost to Kirgys.
❖ ❖ ❖
As the days went by, Amarion's skill improved to a terrifying degree. At some point, she had become the knight who killed the most monsters in the knight order. But Amarion didn't become happy at all. Because every time a wave came, a lot of mercenaries and knights died. Her already crushed heart was trampled on again every time.
Amarion reiterated.
It's not enough. I'm still not enough.
So Amarion wandered the Black Mountain Range alone, hunting and killing monsters. When Kirgys found out about that, he got angry for the first time. Saying he didn't teach her the path through the mountain range for that reason. But Amarion didn't listen. Soon giving up on persuading her, Kirgys went hunting with her instead. As if trying to watch her back.
Light didn't enter the Black Mountain Range, so the passage of time wasn't felt well. Amarion smashed hundreds of eggs all day and slaughtered cockatrices and gorgons. After swinging a sword that was no different from a club due to being so dull, her whole body was soaked in blood. It was a harsh hunt enough to make even the bandits of the fortress try to stop her.
Sometimes, Kirgys said to her with a very pained face.
"You don't have to go that far."
Amarion didn't reply. Amarion driving herself so harshly was merely a means to endure herself. In the malice of life and countless deaths, the only way Amarion could endure was by striving to become stronger.
❖ ❖ ❖
In those times, Amarion passed seventeen, and then passed twenty.
Now, the people of Amari didn't die as much as before. The intermediate mercenaries who came every winter, as well as the messengers and peddlers, were the same.
People attributed the credit to Amarion.
"Our young lord is truly amazing!"
"Her swordsmanship is the best. The swordsmen who learned from her are all strong too."
"I heard her reputation is high among the mercenaries as well."
However, such stories rarely reached Amarion. It was obvious since she was always wandering the battlefield alone and barely talked to people.
"Thank you, Lord Amarion! You are the greatest knight among those I have seen!"
Even when bold mercenaries praised her to her face, Amarion brushed it off with a faint smile. It was because she herself didn't believe in herself. The sharp words of her mother and father who had torn her apart since childhood, the countless deaths and terrible experiences that couldn't be blocked, made her shrink back.
Still, she liked the friendliness of the mercenaries. On snowy days, in the plaza where a fire was built with birch wood, the mercenaries told her all sorts of stories. Terrible monsters, trash employers who stole their pay, and even somewhat low-brow mercenary-style romance tales. They were stories that were fun to listen to even if they weren't knightly.
One of the mercenaries stood up holding a jug of rice wine and set the mood.
"Now, here! The greatest among the mighty knights of the north, Amarion of Amari is here—"
Sitting in the corner, Amarion smiled bitterly and rubbed her sword with a piece of leather. The northerners she had seen in her life were all so weak that they died quickly. Being the best among them felt like a meaningless title.
Whether knowing her thoughts or not, the mercenary continued loudly.
"In the southern Empire right now, a knight just as amazing as Lord Amarion is running wild!"
"Huh? I know that story too."
A few people of Amari joined in. They were peddlers who frequently traveled to the south of the kingdom. They babbled.
"That guy, right? Mort or something, the Grand Duke. I heard he's making a huge contribution in the Southern Kingdom War?"
"That's right. You're well-informed."
The mercenary laughed heartily. The peddlers said nonchalantly.
"How could we not know, everyone talks about the Grand Duke these days."
"But they say the war will end soon thanks to the Grand Duke, right? How many years has that damn war been going on."
"Right! They collected massive taxes using the war as an excuse. And how much the tolls went up, tsk."
"You guys don't use the gates anyway and always climb the mountains, right? If you get caught, your heads will be cut off right away."
"Is that for you to say? You bastards who pass by pointing swords at the guards!"
Boisterous laughter erupted.
Amarion silently drank the rice wine and thought.
How strong do you have to be to end a war by yourself. The continent is a land hundreds of times larger than the north, so a knight famous enough from one end of the continent to the other would surely be unbelievably strong. Strong enough to bring peace to the land they rule.
More than any fame, Amarion envied that.
Anyway, it was a story that had nothing to do with her. To Amarion, who had never even been to the kingdom's capital once, Grand Duke Mort was no different from a character in a book. Amarion let the rumor that the Grand Duke of Death was as hideous as an Uruk go in one ear and marked the monsters' locations on the map.
❖ ❖ ❖
Amari survived the wave that year too, and Amarion lost a few more people. Filling the empty spots in the knight order with other apprentice knights, Amarion felt disillusioned. No matter how strong she thought she had become, the constantly repeating reality was arduous.
Moreover, with Kirgys becoming the king of bandits and unable to meet often, she had nowhere else to confide her inner thoughts. Because a lord always had to be strong in front of their people. Kirgys told her every time that she didn't need to overdo it, but it was a story that didn't resonate with Amarion.
"Lord Amarion."
Someone spoke to Amarion, who was resting in the corner of the training ground. When she raised her head, a tall, lanky knight stood there hesitantly. Amarion asked.
"What is it, Halmaud?"
"...Why did you put me in the knight order?"
Halmaud asked hesitantly. With a long scar on the bridge of his nose, he was so tall that he looked over twenty even though he was still young. Amarion answered calmly.
"Because you use the sword well."
"But I... always fight with other guys... and you scolded me for not acting like a knight."
Halmaud hung his head low. Amarion smiled slightly.
Halmaud lost his parents when he was young and grew up with the village children. As it was for Amarion, in the north, it was not rare for children to grow up in everyone's hands like that, so it wasn't a special thing. But Halmaud was a bit unusual. Because of his nasty temper, he often fought with his peers, and he would snap at the adults who gave him food and get spanked. Even after learning the sword and becoming an apprentice knight, he fought so much with his fellow knights that Amarion scolded him. That was the reason he hadn't become a senior knight yet despite having far superior swordsmanship skills than his peers.
But Amarion knew better than anyone. That his attitude was the manifestation of clumsy apology and gratitude. So Amarion asked back.
"Do you like Amari?"
Halmaud nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. The people here are all my family."
"Me too."
Halmaud's eyes widened. Amarion smiled quietly.
"You will become a great knight, Halmaud. Because you value Amari more than anyone."
"Like you, my lord?"
Amarion stopped her hand that was maintaining her sword. Halmaud was looking at his lord without a sliver of doubt. Just like when Amarion was young.
Amarion opened her mouth, then closed it, and muttered softly.
"I don't know anymore. I'm too tired..."
"Pardon?"
"It's nothing. Isn't it training time now? Go back."
At the strict words, Halmaud bowed silently with slumped shoulders and stepped back. Amarion watched the young knight's retreating back for a moment, then turned her gaze. White snowflakes were silently piling up on the snowy field that would imprison her for the rest of her life.
❖ ❖ ❖
The same seasons flowed by several times.
News came from the south that the Imperial army led by Grand Duke Mort had finally conquered even the Eastern Kingdom. His nickname, 'Walking Death', was so infamous that it even reached the north. The village in the wasteland built by the Mercenary King flourished widely, and it was said that a new regent established by the Emperor ascended the throne in the Eastern Kingdom.
When she rarely met Kirgys, Amarion told him the outside stories she had picked up here and there. Kirgys always listened quietly, but he seemed to focus more on Amarion telling the story than on the story itself.
Amarion said with a quiet smile.
"Isn't it amazing? That so many things are happening in the world. The north is always the same, like it's frozen."
"Still, new things happen sometimes."
"Like what?"
Kirgys unnecessarily fiddled with his pure white hair and answered.
"Well, like a child being born, or... getting married."
"That's true."
Amarion readily agreed. Even in the poor and difficult north, marriage was something to be celebrated largely, so a modest feast was often held. They wore crowns made of woven vines and danced beating leather drums. It was a scene full of ecstasy and blessing.
But Amarion couldn't imagine herself receiving such a blessing. Because love was the most precious of all blessings. So the young lord just smiled.
"I look forward to seeing how much of a fuss Lord Pendragon will make when Muriel reaches marriageable age. They say he talks about marriage to you every day too?"
"...Yeah."
"Don't you have anyone you like? You were always popular, Kirgys. If you tell me, I'll bring them."
Amarion asked. She was truly sincere. The only peer who had even a little conversation with the blunt young lord was Sophie, but if Kirgys, her old friend, wanted it, she would somehow set them up.
Kirgys stared intently at Amarion with his purple eyes. Then he said.
"...I like you the best."
Amarion's eyes widened, then she smiled.
"I like you too, Kirgys."
"..."
"Because you're my oldest and closest friend. But putting that aside, is there no one you really want to date?"
Kirgys was silent for a while. Then he asked.
"Marion, what about you? Don't you think about getting married?"
This time, the young lord's words were blocked. Amarion said after some hesitation.
"Honestly, I don't know if I can get married."
"Why?"
"Just. ...Because I don't want to create another person like my mother. The late Lady of Mule was like that too."
Amarion's gaze turned to the snow-covered ice mountain.
"Whether the partner is a northerner or not, that person will live a hard life as the lord's family. They will have to stand on the front lines of the war with me. This land is such a place. I hate that."
"..."
"So I haven't thought about it deeply yet."
Kirgys stared at her for a long time. He said quietly.
"Sometimes you really seem like a person who wants to leave this place."
"...No. And it's not like I can leave just because I want to, right? No matter how lacking I am, I have to fulfill my responsibility to my land."
Kirgys didn't answer. He lowered his long eyelashes and said.
"If you ever leave, I won't look for you."
"I said I won't leave."
"Still, let me know when you go."
At the sight of her friend looking somehow downcast, Amarion finally laughed.
"You worry too much, Kirgys."
Kirgys continued to be silent. A silence as dreary as the winter mountain filled the space between the two, but Amarion, who was used to her reticent friend, wasn't uncomfortable with it at all.
Amarion briefly said goodbye to her old friend and came down the mountain range.
❖ ❖ ❖
A few days later, a messenger from the royal palace arrived in Amari.
"The King is looking for me?"
Unable to believe it, Amarion read the telegram the King had sent again. The letter ordering her to come to the royal palace as quickly as possible specifically named Amarion Amari, a knight of Amari and the Count's daughter.
Sophie frowned.
"Why are they calling the young lord all the way to the capital? From the royal palace that hasn't paid any attention to the north for decades."
"Do not go, my lord. The southern bastards have black hearts, we don't know what sinister thoughts they might be having."
Halmaud also gave an impassioned speech. However, Amarion said to the village chief.
"Please write a reply saying I will go and hand it to the messenger."
"My lord!"
"If I refuse here, the support items coming from the royal palace might decrease."
Halmaud closed his mouth tightly. The support items sent by the King once a year were very precious in the poor north. For Halmaud, who had recently become the commander and awkwardly learned how to read ledgers, there was nothing he could say.
Amarion sent the messenger away and went up to the lord's castle with Sophie. Then she opened the wardrobe she hadn't opened for a very long time and found old dresses. They belonged to the previous lords or ladies of Amari, but they were clothes Amarion had never worn. Because she was always wearing armor and out on the battlefield.
Sophie rummaged through the wardrobe and found the most decent clothes that fit her height. The dress was full of moth holes, and it was cold just wearing it. Putting the dress on Amarion who stood awkwardly, Sophie said carefully.
"Young Lord, you probably know but... they say Grand Duke Mort is in the capital right now."
"Yeah."
Amarion recalled the rumor she had heard recently. Had they said the capital was turned upside down because the Grand Duke of Death appeared at the royal palace?
"Could that be related to this matter by any chance?"
Amarion stared at Sophie. Their conversations had decreased since her mother, the village chief's wife, died, but the eyes worrying about her contained the same tender concern as a real older sister's. So Amarion shook her head with a small smile.
"Probably not. They say the palace periodically summons nobles anyway."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Since the wave is over too, I'll go thinking of it as a short trip."
Sophie clenched her lips, fastened the rest of the hooks on the dress, and then took out a thick winter coat and put it over the clothes. The shape was funny, but no one cared about such things.
"Be careful, Young Lord."
Amarion nodded to Sophie.
"Yeah. I'll leave Mother and Father in your care."
"Yes."
"And this."
Amarion took off the lord's ring from her neck and handed it to Sophie. Sophie's eyes widened.
"Why this...?"
"Just in case. Father... no, give it to Mother."
"You'll be right back, won't you?"
Amarion smiled quietly. Then she left the room without answering.
Actually, no matter how much she thought about it, this sudden summons didn't seem like a good thing. Because in Amarion's life, extraordinary events always ended in unhappy conclusions. So perhaps this matter too might really bring a very unfortunate result. It might even be related to the wicked Grand Duke of Death.
But Amarion had no choice. If she had officially inherited the earldom it might be different, but a woman without a title didn't even have the right to refuse the King's order. So she had to go. No matter what happened.
Amarion left the village without any special farewell, just like when she went out hunting. With only a single sword at her waist, she went down to the border village and rode the carriage sent by the King.
The inside of the carriage was very cold and hard. All the way to the capital through the rough road, the coachman and the messenger complained about the beggarly north and the blunt northern woman. Amarion didn't say anything. In fact, she was too busy looking out the window.
Even just going a little south, the world was so livable. Was that why her father ran away, and her mother hated Amari so terribly?
Understanding things she hadn't wanted to understand made Amarion a bit sad.
She also often thought about the Grand Duke of Death.
Was he really that strong? They said the Empire was enjoying unprecedented prosperity thanks to the Grand Duke's exploits. All the bards praised his sword, and all the knights dreamed of becoming like him.
But Amarion just wanted to ask.
If you are as strong as you are, can you get everything you want? Can you protect everything precious, and be able to sleep in peace? Have you obtained the blessing I have wished for all my life, with your sword?
It was a question she wouldn't be able to ask if she actually met him. Even if she happened to run into him at the palace, Amarion would just have to bow her head and wait for him to pass. Even she, who grew up without much education, knew that much.
—But when she actually met the Grand Duke, the story flowed in a completely different direction.
❖ ❖ ❖
Victor Mort. A man as beautiful as the waves of the dark night proposed to her with an unreadable face.
At that moment, Amarion inevitably recalled the words her mother had said before.
'The only way for a woman to change her life is marriage. The only way to escape this insect-like town is marriage!'
Then and now, Amarion didn't agree with such nonsense. Regardless of whether one was a woman or a man, destiny could only be changed by one's own hands.
But Amarion had failed. Amari was still suffering from hunger and monsters, and she, who was lacking, couldn't bring peace to her land.
In such a situation, the proposal brought by the terrifying Grand Duke was too sweet.
The tremendous dowry the Grand Duke promised. When she heard the amount, Amarion first thought of the Black Fortress. The giant fortress that was securely surrounded by high walls, where even Kirgys said bandits could live in a place like this.
If they built such a wall on the outskirts of Amari, the lives of the Amari people would completely change. A safe life without sacrifice, where the weak don't die, and the food painstakingly saved all summer isn't trampled by monsters. Marriage with him could bring such peace to Amari in an instant. Things she couldn't do even with a lifetime of effort.
It was a dream-like imagination for Amarion, who was utterly exhausted from fighting tirelessly for Amari. So the young lord walked in herself. Into the embrace of death.
Amarion wrote down the whole story in a short letter to send to Amari and left it with the King's messenger. She intentionally hid the fact that her marriage partner was the notorious Grand Duke Mort. Because she thought everyone would worry.
Would her mother be happy since she ended up marrying a Grand Duke? She had that thought briefly, but soon erased even that. Because marrying the Grand Duke of Death would probably not be the beautiful and cozy thing her mother had wished for.
She also left a simple letter for her old friend, Kirgys. Since even pigeons couldn't go to the Black Mountain Range, it would take a long time for him to receive the letter, but... Amarion believed he would support her choice. If he knew the dowry sent to Amari, Kirgys would understand her choice too.
Since neither side wanted it, the marriage vows ended simply in a small hall next to the royal palace. Even with the King and the High Priest as witnesses, it was a very modest ceremony, but Amarion didn't care. Since she had never thought about marriage in the first place, no emotions arose.
Amarion tightly gripped her old dress and headed for the Empire. Leaving behind the land she had resented and loved all her life.
A strange sense of liberation and anxiety filled her inside.
❖ ❖ ❖
—And, the one year spent with him.
Amarion learned a great deal. Victor Mort wasn't that strong. Even he, so wealthy and strong, couldn't buy a blessing. No, rather he was wandering in pain every night.
At first she was afraid, but Amarion soon came to pity him. The gentle husband who was infamous across the continent, yet suffering from immense pain. So she sincerely hoped he would overcome his illness. Even staying up all night holding a sword every day, she didn't find it hard.
"I am alive thanks to you. So all of this is yours."
As the price for curing his disease, he gave Amarion everything he had. He gave her all the precious and delicious things, and made her realize she was a valuable person. He also showed her lots of good people and fun things.
Sometimes they clashed and were disappointed. He, who had seemed perfect and brilliant, was actually as clumsy as she was.
Nevertheless, Amarion liked him. Victor was her one and only peerless understander. When she saw him, she didn't feel the burden of having to protect him, nor the anxiety that he might die. Just being next to him was good.
"I will go with you too. Sharing the burden of your duty."
Even when she went on a rough path, he was always with her. He protected her clumsy beliefs without hesitation.
"I knew someday you would kill me."
And eventually, they risked their lives together.
"Marion."
Whenever he called her, Amarion recalled all the warmth and happiness in the world. In the smell of baking bread in the oven, in the dazzlingly shining expensive diamonds, and in her favorite fluffy feather bedding, Amarion thought of Victor.
He was not death. Rather, he was a life that started again from the end.
When she was by his side, she was no longer cold. The self-reproach that had become daily life and the sorrow that followed her like the wind were erased at some point. A lifetime of loneliness ended because of him.
"Marion, my wife."
Victor hugged her from behind as she sat in a plush chair. The peaceful scenery of Mort spread far and wide beyond the window. Now Amari would become like that too. Just as she had wished all her life.
Amarion looked up at Victor with a smile. Her husband was smiling happier than anyone. That smile made her bloom. Like a new shoot that dies and comes back to life in spring.
Amarion knew what this emotion was.
Love. It was love.
She was finally blessed.