As spring approaches and the winter wind makes its last desperate attempt, a cold wave sweeps across the continent, rivaling the depths of winter.
The potato flowers withered and faded, and in their place, potatoes emerged.
Even as I dug them up, I couldn’t help but wonder. Why did the Lord give me these potatoes? Especially in the midst of such a harsh winter.
“…It’s tasteless.”
Roka, who prefers meat, doesn’t eat things like potatoes. It means that in our household, one serving of potatoes is enough.
‘Quite a lot of sturdy, well-formed potatoes have come up.’
Even though they grew in a small corner of the vegetable garden, their roots ran deep. It was nothing short of divine intervention.
‘Too many have come up. Why did the Lord give me such a gift?’
The sight of dozens of potatoes hanging from those roots was truly astonishing. I shared them with the people who came to the clinic for treatment, gave some to Mr. Rubelt, and distributed them to neighbors in need.
I made potato salad for myself, boiled potato soup, and managed three meals a day with it. Roka felt bad eating meat while I had potato soup, but I’ve always eaten lightly. I don’t feel much hunger even if I don’t eat.
“Hello, sir. Nice to meet you. I am…”
“Ah, you must be the priest from Kyle’s clinic! I’ve heard a lot about you. Did you come to our alms house for…?”
“I received a lot of potatoes as a gift, and it’s too much for me to eat alone.”
That’s why I brought several bags of potatoes to donate to the alms house.
The people at the alms house were grateful. It was a place that helped the poor but didn’t receive much support or donations.
“How kind of you! We were just running out of food and making acorn porridge.”
“I don’t know who kindly gave you so many potatoes, but both you and that person will be blessed. Thanks to you, many brothers won’t go hungry during the festival and can at least fill their stomachs with potato soup. In the name of the goddess, we thank you.”
“Don’t mention it! May blessings be upon you in the name of the Lord.”
“May blessings be upon you too, priest.”
Though the gods we serve are different, our direction is the same.
The Three Divine Gods speak of love, and my god also speaks of love. I pray to my god for peace and well-being, and they pray to theirs.
‘Come to think of it, the feast of Saint Beorodo is approaching.’
Though I am but a humble priest serving the goddess Hilrae, I have spent my life healing and helping the poor, and later was canonized as a saint.
The day to bless Saint Beorodo is approaching. The goddess is one of the Three Divine Gods, so the day to bless the saints of the Hilrae Church is a holiday across the entire continent.
Even though our faiths flow in different directions, I have no reason not to respect them. I have no reason not to celebrate their feast day with joy.
‘Perhaps I’ll offer a prayer to the goddess on the feast day.’
My god doesn’t mind if I pray to other gods. It’s not about converting faith, but simply offering a prayer of thanks. It’s a small matter left to my discretion, a trust that feels almost too generous for someone like me.
I only seek to understand the will of the gods and repay their kindness.
“Roka, do you believe in gods?”
Shakes head.
The wolf by my side, Roka, shook her head.
“I don’t believe. They’re all frauds.”
“Haha…”
“My tribe worshipped the goddess of the plains, Epirna. I did too. Not anymore.”
“I see. That’s also right. In life, the only thing you really need to believe in is yourself.”
I am essential; gods are optional.
If you don’t even believe in yourself, denying your own potential, would serving and worshipping only gods please them? At least my Lord wouldn’t think so.
“Master. Can I also believe in the one you believe in?”
“Roka. My Lord doesn’t need faith.”
As long as you don’t give up until the very end, that is how you worship my Lord.
Even in the face of hardship, if you don’t yield, that is how you believe in gods.
Praying together doesn’t mean you believe in gods. Memorizing scriptures doesn’t make you a believer. It’s about living according to their teachings.
I often find myself confused about whether I am a believer or not.
“If your heart is sincere and devoted, perhaps they will accept your faith. But Roka, you don’t have to follow the one I worship.”
There are many gods on the continent, led by the Three Divine Gods. You can worship any of them. Faith cannot be forced. You just need to worship the one you wish to.
Just because I worship them, should you follow? That heart wouldn’t be sincere, and the gods wouldn’t accept such faith. Roka would have to worship someone she doesn’t truly believe in. It’s not good for anyone.
“Actually, the one I worship is…”
Roka started to say something but closed her mouth. She just smiled and sealed her lips. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me.
‘Has she grown a little taller?’
But her eyes seemed to have shifted slightly upward. Still not meeting my gaze, but the gap felt a bit smaller. They say beast-kin grow quickly, and it’s true. Roka’s childhood will pass even faster than mine.
“What do you want to do on the feast day?”
“Whatever you wish, Master.”
“Then, what you wish.”
“I want to walk with you, Master. Like we do now.”
This kid. For a young one to wish for something so simple.
“That’s enough.”
So, for the feast day, I decided to go out with Roka. Even if it’s just wandering around the festival.
*
Who is this, riding a donkey on this cold, dark night?
Wearing a wooden mask, riding a donkey on the verge of foaming at the mouth, exhaling a sweet sigh as she gallops—who is she?
Once called the Steel Princess, a hero of the battlefield, now she is but a decaying mass of flesh—Princess Ardein.
All her glorious achievements have faded, her white horse gone, replaced by a single donkey.
‘There was no other choice.’
Her body couldn’t endure the time it would take for a normal journey. When her horse grew tired, she sold it and bought a lesser one. When that one tired, she bought a farm horse. And when even that one tired, she settled for this donkey. Seeing the foam at its mouth, even this one is reaching its limit.
“Is this… Larpentia…?”
Forcing her unresponsive body to move, even using mana, the princess dismounted the donkey. Even that simple action made her legs feel numb.
She had traveled too far without proper rest. Even a sturdy person would be exhausted, and her body was far from sturdy. It felt like it was cracking everywhere.
“Haha…”
Her mind was blank. She felt like she might collapse any moment. Her heart was out of control. Her body was no longer fully hers. The noose of death was tightening around her neck.
How much longer could she hold on? A day? Or two? She couldn’t even be sure. Her life was as precarious as a flickering candle.
But hunger comes equally to the dying and the healthy. This beast doesn’t know satisfaction, no matter how lavish the feast before. If you don’t feed it when it’s time, it gets angry, no matter how much you’ve indulged it before. The princess felt a hunger close to pain.
‘What a fool I am. At a time like this, the first thing I think of is hunger.’
Even in the cold wind, she no longer felt the cold. Her skin had deteriorated, and with it, her senses. But though she couldn’t feel the cold, she could feel the hunger.
On her way here, she had relied on dried rations and jerky, never having a proper meal. The princess was hungry. She had never known hunger could be so terrifying.
In the palace, a snap of her fingers would bring snacks. On the battlefield, as a royal and commander, it was unthinkable for her to miss a meal. Any commander would desperately try to feed her.
Even when supplies ran low and soldiers marched with empty stomachs, the princess could march on with honeyed water. This was the first time she had ever been this hungry.
‘Perhaps I should rest at an inn first.’
She didn’t even have the energy to inquire about Priest Kyle. The princess, with her empty stomach, walked merely to find a meal.
