From the day she was born, she was told she needed to be stronger than others.

"The Celosia family is responsible for protecting the integrity of the kingdom. We are the military force. The king's spear and the nation's shield!"

The day she learned to speak, she was taught her family's battle cry.

"Fight with your life on the line! A Celosia must not show mercy to their enemies!"

On the same day she learned to walk, a weapon was placed in her hands, and she was taken to the training field.

Born into a military family that served directly under the king, life for Cleomel Celosia was indistinguishable from training. Training to grow stronger, growing stronger to fulfill a purpose.

A Celosia didn't need friends. A Celosia didn't need happiness. For her life to have meaning, she needed to fulfill her purpose.

Every morning, Cleomel Celosia rose early. Among her more than ten siblings, she knew that if she didn’t work harder than anyone else, she would be left behind.

The reason was simple: she was the only one in her family who couldn’t use magic.

Molding mana was like building imaginary muscles.

If those muscles were moved correctly, a spell could be formed. But no matter how she tried, the girl who adored magic with all her heart couldn’t create a single spell. Even her instructors abandoned her, deeming her a lost cause.

"If you can't use the magic of House Celosia, how do you expect to be recognized as one of us?"

Unable to respond to her siblings, Cleomel Celosia woke up early and swung her spear. Rain or snow, whether she was sick or her hands bled, the girl practiced every day without fail.

She stopped listening to those who criticized her; there was nothing to gain from it. Eventually, no one's opinions mattered to her anymore.

Day after day, week after week, year after year, Cleomel Celosia trained to become the best at the one thing she knew how to do.

When her mastery of the weapon reached its peak, she began to think about how to strengthen her body further.

She couldn’t move the imaginary muscles to produce the spells she loved, but she could move them within her own body, making herself stronger.

Even as a Celosia, there was no space in the family library for someone who couldn’t use magic. With no one to teach her, Cleomel Celosia developed her own technique and pushed it to the limits of her knowledge. Yet she knew that if she wanted to grow stronger, she needed to observe how the strongest fought.

"A Celosia never flees from a fight against an opponent! A Celosia never turns their back on the enemy!"

If they wouldn’t teach her in training, she would force them to teach her another way.

At twelve years old, she challenged her instructor to a duel.

Within the rules of House Celosia, warriors couldn’t refuse a duel. But unlike training, in a duel, there was no obligation to hold back.

She lost.

She lost again.

And again, and again, and again.

Each defeat was harsher than the last, meant to break her spirit.

Even when they broke her feet.

Even when they shattered her hands.

The girl challenged them again.

Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Won.

Lost. Lost. Won. Lost. Lost.

Lost. Won. Won. Lost. Won.

Won. Won. Won. Won. Won.

When none of the instructors could defeat her anymore, at fifteen, she challenged her older siblings one by one. No matter how much she was beaten or how much blood she coughed up, she always sought out a stronger opponent once she defeated the one before her.

Her body was covered in scars, yet all those who had once judged her were eventually struck down by her spear.

At seventeen, the only person in her family she couldn’t defeat in a duel was her own father.

When that moment arrived, she was finally acknowledged as a true Celosia.

“Starting tomorrow, you will join me in protecting the king’s castle.”

For the first time in her life, her father spoke to her directly, without an intermediary. For the first time, he gave her a light pat on the back and said she had done a good job.

Unlike her siblings, who were stationed in the city guard, her father had called her to accompany him in the royal palace—a privilege granted to no one else but her.

She should have been happy, overjoyed that her efforts had paid off. But as she stared at the spear in her hands, she felt nothing.

Long ago, all the pain, anger, sorrow, and joy had been swept from her heart. With no friends to share what people called happiness, nor a single family member to congratulate her success, the girl who had grown stronger to find a purpose had instead become a knight without one.

Dressed in her family’s military uniform and walking through the palace corridors, Cleomel Celosia asked herself what she was supposed to do now.

“I don’t know you. I won’t accept this food.”

The first time she heard that voice, she wondered what had driven her to investigate.

In a hallway that wasn’t part of her patrol route, she found herself standing in front of a slightly ajar door. A maid with a cart carrying a tray of food stood outside.

“Is there a problem?” Cleomel Celosia asked, her posture impeccable, with both hands clasped behind her back.

The maid, startled, glanced nervously around before replying.

“I was just delivering food to His Majesty’s concubine, sir, but she refuses to take it.”

Hearing the explanation, the dark-skinned, short-haired woman turned her gaze to the opening in the door.

With obsidian eyes and black hair, dressed in a simple nightgown that covered her trembling legs, a beautiful woman with rosy skin held the door shut with all her strength.

“She’s not the same maid who brought the food the past few days. I have no way of knowing if it’s poisoned,” the woman inside said firmly.

Knowing her new workplace would be the palace, Cleomel Celosia had studied all its residents—both those she was tasked to protect and those she wasn’t.

“It seems that Lady Vivienne doesn't feel like eating right now. In that case, I suggest you come back later,” Cleomel said firmly.

Her tone needed no repetition; the maid hurriedly grabbed the cart and left with the exquisite meal.

Once the maid was gone, the noblewoman inside finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, miss. Without you, she wouldn’t have left so quickly, and it would have woken the babies.”

For the first time in years, Cleomel raised an eyebrow in surprise. The woman had recognized her as female. Even in her entirely masculine uniform, which even her father sometimes forgot disguised her true gender, the woman before her had seen her as she was.

“You flatter me, Lady Vivienne. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Bowing slightly before returning to her patrol, Cleomel wondered if she might be coming down with a cold again. As she passed a window, she noticed her face was slightly flushed.

---

Months passed, yet even though it wasn’t part of her route, Cleomel Celosia made a habit of detouring to check on the black-haired woman.

"Thank you for bringing me food. Ever since the last maid from the Vesalea family was intimidated into leaving the palace, I’ve been worried I wouldn’t be able to find any food here."

Sitting on the bed, the noblewoman joyfully ate the small lunchbox of sandwiches she held in her hands.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Lady Vivienne.”

Leaning against the bedroom wall, Cleomel Celosia glanced at the two small babies in the crib. Even though she had seen the king many times, she firmly believed they resembled their mother far more than their father.

They were only a few months old and couldn’t yet speak, but their tiny hands reached toward her as if they wanted her to pick them up.

“I’ve already told you—you can just call me Abelia, Miss Celosia.”

Savoring another sandwich to the point of licking her fingers, Abelia didn’t even notice when the woman in the corner of the room had to turn her blushing face away.

After numerous attempts at making sandwiches, the dark-skinned woman had finally managed a result decent enough to bring. She hadn’t expected Abelia to enjoy them this much.@@novelbin@@

“As a member of the palace guard, I couldn’t dare to address you by your given name.”

Even as part of a military family, Cleomel had only her birth name and family name. Those who were permitted to carry a third name before their given one symbolized a family’s exceptional contributions to the first king—a rare and prestigious honor.

Standing up, Cleomel Celosia approached the door and checked both sides of the hallway.

She shouldn’t have been doing this. She wasn’t even supposed to be in that room. She knew she was breaking the rules, but even so, she did it for that woman.

“Will you come back tomorrow?”

When the gentle question reached her, the dark-skinned woman nodded.

Why was she doing all of this for her? That thought crossed Cleomel’s mind countless times each day.

At first, she could dismiss it as a whim, an impulsive act without much thought. But when this small gesture became part of her daily routine, she no longer had an answer.

“The third concubine’s child was born last night, and I’ve heard the fourth’s baby is expected next month. Soon, many families will visit the palace.”

Sitting on the bed, Abelia held both babies tightly in her arms, her gaze distant as she stared out the window.

“Can’t your family send someone to protect you?” Cleomel asked, observing the nearly lifeless eyes of the woman holding her children as though they were her only anchor.

“I don’t think I can expect much. My sister is in the mages’ tower trying to earn her second star, so I doubt I’ll be able to contact her easily. From the letters I’ve received, the Vesalea family has already received financial support from the king, but the situation is still dire. I don’t think they’ll concern themselves with sending someone to protect me for the next few years.”

Shaking her head, Abelia regained a bit of energy, forcing herself to smile.

“Will I see you at the ball tomorrow?”

The day marking the kingdom’s anniversary brought grand celebrations across the capital and a grand ball at the royal palace. Although she had managed to avoid attending last year under the excuse of needing rest during her pregnancy, she would be required to participate this year.

“I’ll be there with the royal guard, so you might not see me.”

Uncrossing her arms, Cleomel packed the small container she had used to bring food and prepared to leave.

"I see..."

Abelia’s obsidian eyes lingered on Cleomel Celosia’s back, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Believing the conversation was over, the dark-skinned woman began to open the door, ready to leave. But just as she stepped forward, words finally reached her.

“Lady Celosia, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for us until now.”

When Cleomel turned, she nearly froze in place.

The face before her wasn’t the same as the one she had seen on any other day. A blend of sorrow and resignation twisted Abelia’s expression as she bit her lips, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

That image seemed to burn itself into Cleomel’s soul.

The beautiful woman, not yet even twenty years old, looked as though she might cry while clutching her two babies tightly.

Cleomel Celosia couldn’t understand what that expression meant—at least, not until the next day.

During the largest festival of the kingdom—a day of celebration that surpassed even the king’s own birthday—she walked through the palace halls, supervising the event.

Her eyes widened to their limit when she saw a blood-soaked mother weeping over a lifeless baby in her arms.

“It seems the third prince has already died. He didn’t even last a week.”

“What did you expect? The woman tried to show off and only brought two guards.”

A crowd of onlookers gathered around the crimson-stained corridor, whispering but unmoving.

No one had stepped forward to help.

No one intended to.

When this realization struck Cleomel Celosia, she ran.

Abelia’s face—it wasn’t the face of someone trying to stay strong for the future. It was the face of someone who had already accepted her fate.

Faster than she’d ever run when challenging her siblings, Cleomel sprinted through the palace.

Every corridor, every alley, every garden—it didn’t matter where. She used every ounce of strength in her search.

Amid the cheerful laughter and clinking glasses of fine wine, Cleomel Celosia burst into the ballroom. It was crowded, filled with revelers, but no one was doing anything when one of the servants advanced toward a woman with black hair, desperately trying to stay hidden against the walls with two babies in her arms.

She wasn’t supposed to act. She knew that. But before her mind could even form a justification, her body had already moved.

Her lance spun, her body leapt.

Her eyes didn’t waver as, with sheer force, she severed the man’s head from his body, staining the ballroom floor a deep, vivid red.

"Are you okay?" Cleomel Celosia asked in a gentle tone to the woman in front of her.

Her hand was stained with blood, but even so, the woman held it tightly. Tears streamed down her face as she stammered several tearful "thank yous."

From that moment on, there was no turning back.

---

"Do you realize what you've done? By saving her, even for a single moment, the Celosia family has taken a side in the battle for the throne."

In her father's office, the young woman heard his stern voice for the first time in years.

"So I should have stood by and watched as she and her children were killed before my eyes?"

Her amber eyes never wavered as she met her father's gaze.

"Except for the reigning king, the Celosia family and all others in the royal guard have no obligation to the concubines or their children. This is part of the neutrality laws established by the first king, ensuring that military forces would not influence the competition for merits. You knew this, and yet you acted that way!"

Families within the royal guard were bound to remain completely impartial, serving only the reigning king.

Cleomel had never seen her father so furious before. The middle-aged man appeared overwhelmed, unable to fathom the political implications this act would bring to the kingdom.

"I am renouncing the name Celosia."

But oblivious to his thoughts, the woman offered the solution without a second thought.

Turning her back on him, Cleomel removed her military uniform and prepared to leave without taking anything from her room.

"There will be no return."

Just as she was about to leave, her father’s incredulous voice called out one last time. Cleomel still didn’t fully understand emotions. Anger or sadness — she couldn’t tell which his tone represented.

"I know."

But it didn’t matter to her.

When she left her family’s mansion, the young woman moved without hesitation, heading straight to a specific location.

Two soft knocks sounded on a window before she opened it and leaped inside, startling the occupant.

"Lady Celosia!?" Abelia’s voice echoed, startled. After the events of the previous night, which had left her sleepless, someone suddenly entering through her window sent her scrambling for a knife on the nearby table.

"Forgive me for entering this way, but until it becomes official, I don’t have permission to use the normal paths."

Speaking in a gentle tone, Cleomel explained how she had snuck past the castle limits and knelt before Abelia.

Surprised when the dark-skinned woman took her hand, Abelia nearly jumped in place. Unsure of what was happening, she watched as the one person she had spoken to without worry for so long lowered her head and closed her eyes.

"I, Cleomel, before the heavens and the earth, swear to you, Vivienne Abelia Anthus, my absolute and unwavering loyalty. From this day forward, my sword shall serve you, and my shield shall protect you from harm. As long as breath remains in my chest, I will rise to defend you. I will bring you the victories you seek and face any foe at your command. To you, I offer my life."

That day, in that small room, Cleomel became a knight with a purpose.

---

Under the rainy plains leading to the Bridge of Connection, a woman wielding a spear fought with every ounce of strength she had left to protect what she had sworn to defend.

Before she could catch her breath, waves of monsters descended upon her. When one fell, another took its place.

Caught in an endless duel, the young woman continued to rack up victories — but also wounds.

"Leave me behind! If you go alone, you’ll make it!"

Behind her, Abelia, still unable to move, screamed in utter panic, begging the knight to save herself.

Her entire body was crumbling in agony, and it was a miracle she could still remain conscious. After defeating yet another monster, the young woman collapsed to the ground. Cleomel tried to stand multiple times but stumbled under her own weight. Using her spear as support, she forced herself upright, readying for the next battle.

"Leave me! Just run, Cleomel!" Abelia screamed through tears, her voice breaking as she pleaded with increasing desperation, but to no avail.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but that's an order I cannot obey." Defeating another monster, Cleomel gritted her teeth and spun her spear to clean the blood from its steel surface.

Watching helplessly as the wounded woman before her fought to protect her at the cost of her own life, Abelia couldn't comprehend why Cleomel refused to flee.

She had no obligation to defend her, yet from the moment they met, Cleomel had always been there, risking her life for her.

"Why do you go so far for me!?"

There was no other way to answer.

Declaring to the heavens, Cleomel replied with a radiant smile.

"Because I love you, Lady Abelia!"