The fact that I, who grew up in a brothel, would be the saint who saves the world was, from the beginning, an impossible thing.

I was a worthless existence, like a violet blooming in the fields. I was despised because I was a commoner, and worshiped because I was the saint.

However, here, there was someone who neither despised nor worshiped me.

The man, as cold as frozen steel, looked at me with a calm gaze and said, “I will not help you.”

Literally, he did not help me.

But he shared everything with me. “I will die in front of you.”

Even death itself.

He was a man like blue flames.

It was just that the color was so cold, I didn’t realize it was a flame.

Thus, the knight made the violet bloom.

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