Chapter 3: My lovely daughters.

Sylvia trotted all the way back home.

Though it was called home, it was actually just a low, crooked, dilapidated wooden shack on the edge of the human gathering area in the outer reaches of the Demon Realm. The gaps in the walls were stuffed with rags and mud to barely fend off the never-ending chilly wind.

The door was pieced together from several thin wooden planks and creaked loudly when opened or closed.

Inside, there was only one room where the bedroom, kitchen, and living area were all crammed together. A tattered blanket spread in the corner served as the bed, and a crude stove made of stacked stones sat in another corner. With almost no furniture, the empty space in the middle was only just enough for someone to turn around.

Sylvia took a deep breath, doing her best to smooth away the pained expression that had naturally appeared on her face from weakness. She even tried to force the corners of her mouth into a suitable smile.

Only then did she push open the unsteady wooden door with her shoulder.

“Mom!”

Almost the moment the door opened a crack, a golden figure rushed over like a little sun, bringing a burst of fresh, warm energy.

It was Elia.

She was already ten years old. Her brilliant golden hair, inherited from Sylvia’s wife, shone dazzlingly even in the dim light of the room. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled, now filled with pure joy.

“Mom is back!”

Elia cheered, as if she wanted to announce the good news to the whole world.

Then, her little nose twitched. Her gaze instantly locked onto the long, cloth-wrapped bundle Sylvia was holding carefully in her arms. Her eyes widened even more.

“It’s black bread! Mom brought black bread back!” Elia exclaimed joyfully, reaching out to help her mother with the item, her small face full of excitement.

Sylvia’s heart was wrapped in this warmth. Looking at Elia’s smile, she felt that all the suffering she had endured earlier was worth it.

Following her daughter’s movement, Sylvia shifted slightly to let Elia take the black bread. She then wanted to gently ruffle Elia’s fluffy golden head as usual.

However, halfway through reaching out, she froze.

She actually needed to stand on her tiptoes a little to reach the top of Elia’s head.

When had her little daughter, who once curled up in her arms, grown so tall?

A child’s growth happened quietly amid day after day of struggle, and now it suddenly reminded her of the passage of time in such a concrete way—through height.

Had so much time really passed? She had been raising Elia and Sophia alone for so long. Was she a qualified and reliable mother?

Clearly not yet. She still hadn’t given her children a happy life. Sylvia felt a pang of loss.

Elia clearly noticed her mother’s tiny pause and the shift in her emotions. Instead of pulling away, she acted like a spoiled little puppy and proactively lowered her head.

She rubbed her head against Sylvia’s hand, letting out a comfortable, satisfied sound from her throat, and snuggled affectionately closer.

Her arms naturally wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, as if she were about to hang most of her weight on her mother.

Not good!

Pressed by Elia like this, Sylvia thought inwardly that it was bad. Stopping Elia directly would make her unhappy.

But if she didn’t stop her, today’s blood loss had far exceeded usual, and she had trotted all the way back. After relaxing at home, her calves were already trembling slightly after just standing for these few seconds.

Elia’s pounce carried a force that her current self simply could not withstand.

She could already sense that she would definitely lose her balance. The mother and daughter would fall together, and the bread in her arms might get dirty.

Just as Elia’s body was about to press fully against her and Sylvia’s vision began to darken from weakness—

“Elia!”

A slightly low but clear and firm voice rang out.

At the same time, a small hand that was a little cool yet very steady reached over from the side, grabbed Elia’s arm, and gently pulled her aside.

Elia let out a surprised “Ah!” as her lunge toward her mother was halted.

A figure half a head shorter than Elia had already stepped in front of Sylvia. It was Sophia.

Ten-year-old Sophia had rare short black hair that made her delicate little face appear even fairer.

Unlike Elia, whose eyes always sparkled, Sophia’s eyes were like the night sky—quiet and gentle as they gazed at everything.

Right now, those eyes carried a hint of disapproval and concern as they looked at her younger sister.

“Be careful.”

Sophia’s voice was steady, carrying the reliability of a little adult.

“Mom came home much later than usual today. She clearly ran into some trouble on the way and is already very tired. Yet you still want to pounce on her.”

As Sophia spoke, she subtly shifted her body closer to Sylvia without drawing attention, as if ready at any moment to support her mother if she might fall.

Elia steadied herself, blinked her large emerald eyes, looked at her sister blocking the way, then at her mother’s face—which was paler than usual—and the fine sweat on her forehead. The excitement on her face was instantly replaced by panic and guilt.

“S-sorry, Mom!” Elia apologized hurriedly, her small hands anxiously twisting the hem of her clothes.

“I… I was just too happy… Mom, are you tired? Sit down quickly!”

As she spoke, Elia carefully set the precious black bread aside, dragged over the room’s only wobbly little wooden chair, and turned to help Sylvia sit.

Taking advantage of the moment Sophia stood in front, Sylvia quietly adjusted her breathing. She reached out and gently placed her hand on Sophia’s thin but straight shoulders, then offered a warm smile to the flustered Elia.

“It’s okay, Elia. Mom is fine. I just walked a long way today, so I came back a bit late.”

Sylvia’s voice trembled slightly, but she tried to keep it gentle.

“And Sophia is right. Elia has already grown taller than Mom. Next time you pounce over, be a little more careful, okay~”

Elia nodded vigorously, her eyes turning slightly red.

Only then did Sylvia slowly walk over to the small wooden chair and sit down carefully.

On the other side, Elia had already cautiously unwrapped the cloth bundle, revealing a long loaf of dark brown, coarse black bread.

Though it was the cheapest kind, for this household, being able to eat until full was already a rare feast.

Sophia said nothing. She simply walked silently to the stove, poured half a bowl of warm water from the kettle, and brought it to Sylvia’s side.

Then, she sat down right next to Sylvia, looking at her mother’s pale little face with heartache.

“Mom!”

Elia also squeezed to her mother’s other side. Her eyes shone brightly as she looked at the bread, but her tone was restrained.

“When can we start eating?”

Sylvia reached out and stroked Elia’s golden hair, then glanced at Sophia who was quietly accompanying her. The chill in her heart seemed to be driven away somewhat by this small, rundown, yet lively little house.

“Mom will rest for a bit, and then we’ll share it right away.”