Chapter 01
The Tenth Life
“Asha! Is that all you’ve managed to do?“
Three and a half years had passed since that day.
Even so, I was still only a four-year-old toddler who stumbled more often than she walked.
Yet these lunatics, despite constantly complaining about how poor they were, had no qualms about making even me work.
“…I’ve been searching… all day…”
I was picking through a pile of rocks, trying to find any minerals worth selling.
Even after digging through them from morning until evening, I was lucky to find more than a handful.
“That isn’t even worth the cost of one meal for you! You’re old enough to earn your own keep now, aren’t you? We don’t even have enough food for tomorrow!”
The audacity was unbelievable.
My mother had left them enough gold and jewels to live comfortably for at least ten years.
They squandered everything within a single year.
The truth was, this family really was dirt poor.
My foster father spent every coin he got his hands on. In summer, he claimed it was too hot to work. In winter, it was too cold.
Their only son spent his days loafing around with the village boys, pretending he was training to become a knight.
As for my foster mother, she blamed every bit of the family’s misfortune on me.
She insisted I was a cursed child.
Thanks to years of relentless abuse, I was the smallest and frailest child my age.
Mother… if you were going to leave me with someone, couldn’t you have found a normal family?
Then again, appearances could be deceiving.
My foster mother looked so warm and gentle that anyone would think she would faint at the mere mention of child abuse.
The truly horrifying part was that…
This was the tenth time I had lived through all of this.
I had experienced regression—returning to the past after death—nine times already.
Every life began exactly the same.
In the lush month of May, a woman wrapped head to toe in a robe, her face hidden from view, carried me—an infant less than a hundred days old—to this dreadful house.
But every ending was different.
Without exception, I always died before reaching the age of twelve.
Each death came in a different way.
As for my ninth life…
I couldn’t even remember how I’d died.
I was probably ambushed from behind and killed before I had time to react.
“It’s because you’ve got no discipline. None at all.”
The family’s hopeless son, Andy, stepped over the threshold and shouted.
“You know why you can’t even do your own share of the work?”
When I ignored him and continued sorting stones, he wandered over beside me.
“Who do you think you take after? Your real mother, obviously. She’s the kind of woman who abandons her own child. Bad blood never changes.”
Listen to this brat talking about someone’s mother…
“What… did you jusht shay?”
I tightened my grip around the stone in my hand and looked up.
“What? Does it still hurt whenever someone insults your real mother? You still think she’s coming back for you?”
He kicked apart the stones I’d carefully sorted.
“Hey, it’s already been over three years. By now, the game’s over.”
“Our family has been far too kind to keep raising a burden like you.”
“If you keep acting up, we’ll throw you out.”
“Besides, who’d ever want a filthy little girl with an old granny’s white hair?”
“Andy looksh way worshe.”
I puffed out my cheeks.
“With that pathetic body, you’ll never become a knight.”
“You’re tiny, you have no musclesh, you’re dumb, and your head’s way too big.”
“…What?”
During my first life, I’d obediently endured everything.
By my tenth…
I no longer saw any reason to.
Granted, because of the difference in age and strength, talking back only earned me another beating—one carefully measured so I wouldn’t actually die.
“Too shtupid to undershtand?”
“You’ll never become a knight.”
“Never.”
“Ever.”
“You little—!”
Andy violently kicked the pile of stones I’d sorted.
Trying to avoid them, I lost my footing and fell face-first onto the rocky heap.
“What was that?! After everything we’ve done for you—feeding you and giving you a place to sleep!”
Neither my foster father, who sat reading the newspaper, nor my foster mother, who was preparing dinner, made any attempt to stop him.
It was an everyday occurrence.
His curses rang painfully in my ears.
Sharp stones dug into my back.
The rocks I’d spent the entire day sorting scattered across the wooden floor once again.
It was enough to make me cry.
But today…
I could endure it.
Because today…
…was that day.
He should be here soon…
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
The faint sound of horses’ hooves echoed in the distance.
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
The sound gradually grew louder until everyone in the house could hear it.
“What is that?”
Andy stopped hitting me and walked to the window.
The glass was clouded with moisture.
He breathed onto it and wiped it with his sleeve.
Beyond the misty forest road, a procession of carriages came into view.
Owning even a single horse was difficult in these remote mountains.
Yet nearly fifteen warhorses surrounded a magnificent carriage unlike anything seen around here, galloping straight toward the cottage.
“Andy, what do you see?”
My foster father folded his newspaper and joined him.
“Wait… that’s…”
“That’s the Knights’ banner!”
Andy narrowed his eyes until his nose was practically pressed against the window.
“I’ve seen that emblem before! Rudy showed it to me!”
“They’re coming here!”
“There’s no other house around!”
“My God… I know what this is!”
His face lit up with excitement as he rushed toward his mother with open arms.
“I took the knight’s examination last month!”
“I passed!”
“They’ve come to take me away!”
“Mom! Our hard days are finally over!”
What utter nonsense.
The words rose to my throat, but I swallowed them.
Even after experiencing this scene countless times…
My body trembled uncontrollably with anticipation.
At last.
He was coming.
This life had dragged on more slowly than any before.
But finally…
Today had arrived.
“Andy! Really? You took the examination?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I… well… if I’d failed, it would’ve been embarrassing.”
“It’s cooler to tell everyone after passing!”
“But I never imagined the entire order would come for me!”
“What if I came first?!”
“I need to change!”
“Mom! Do we have any decent clothes?”
“I can’t greet the knights looking like this!”
While the family ran around in a frenzy…
The carriage stopped in front of the house.
The man riding the largest and most magnificent silver horse dismounted in one graceful leap and walked directly toward the cottage.
Bang! Bang!
At the knock on the door, Andy sprang forward.
“H-Hello… How may I—”
His bright smile froze the instant he saw the tall man standing outside.
He was…
Beautiful.
Brilliant golden hair reached his shoulders, shining with an almost radiant brilliance.
His face was smooth and sculpted like white marble, every feature flawlessly proportioned.
He carried himself with an air of nobility and holiness.
Yet his sharp crimson eyes were unimaginably cold.
One look into them was enough to make an innocent person feel compelled to kneel and beg forgiveness.
His white cloak was stained from top to bottom with blood the same vivid red as his eyes.
Curiously, there was no smell of blood.
But he looked as though he had just stepped straight out of the heart of a battlefield.
The overwhelming killing intent radiating from him left Andy speechless for several moments before he managed to stammer,
“I-I… It’s an honor to meet you. I am—”
“Is this the residence of the Windmild family?”
“Y-Yes! That’s right! I’m Andy Windmild—”
“Where is the Princess?”
The man cut him off immediately.
“…Princess?”
Andy blinked blankly.
Ignoring him, the man strode inside.
His gaze swept over the dusty living room—
the cobwebs hanging from every corner,
the battered table and chairs,
the piles of clutter scattered everywhere—
before finally stopping on me,
standing alone in the corner.
…
I prayed silently.
Please…
Look at this house.
Look at me.
Feel sorry.
Feel guilty…
But his expression never changed.
Not even slightly.
“There you are.”
He walked toward me, then knelt on one knee in salute.
Even kneeling, he was so tall that I still had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
I saw myself reflected in his crimson gaze.
My tangled white hair, never properly brushed.
My trembling emerald eyes.
My soot-stained face.
My worn-out, threadbare clothes.
My miserable appearance.
My heart pounded so violently that my tiny child’s body could scarcely bear it.
The man I had spent years…
despising…
and desperately waiting for.
“I am Phaeon Parsiel, Commander of the Knights of Saint Veritas.”
“I greet Her Highness, Princess Anastasia.”
The hero who had ended Santora’s three-year war.
The strongest Holy Knight whose name was known throughout the entire continent of Tranquillum.
A man who had, of course, sworn an oath of chastity to God.
It was only in this life—
through nothing short of a miracle—
that I discovered…
He was my biological father.
“This young lady’s full name is Anastasia Entimos.”
Phaeon spoke to the foster family, who were still staring in stunned confusion.
“She is the First Princess of Santora.”
