Chapter 4: Rare and heartwarming moments.

She rested for about ten minutes or so. Sylvia closed her eyes, trying to suppress the weakness in her body.

Outside the house, the never-ending wind of the Demon Realm, carrying the stench of decay, whistled faintly through the gaps in the wooden planks.

Her daughters thoughtfully remained silent, quietly accompanying her by her side. The room was quiet, filled only with her slightly hurried breathing, and……

“Gurgle.”

A soft but clear rumble of the stomach broke the silence. Immediately after, another one sounded, slightly louder.

Sylvia’s eyelashes trembled as she opened her eyes. She didn’t need to look to know the sound had come from her two daughters nestled against her on either side.

Aelia covered her stomach with a hint of embarrassment, her little face flushing slightly. Sophia, on the other hand, pressed her face even more gently against her mother’s arm, trying to hide it.

Sylvia mentally gave herself a boost. Exhaustion still filled her entire body, but her daughters were hungry—she could no longer remain seated.

She took a deep breath, placed her hands on her knees for support, and slowly stood up. Her movements were somewhat sluggish, yet steady.

“Mom, why don’t you rest a little longer?” Sophia lifted her small face, her dark eyes full of worry.

“Yeah, yeah! We’re not hungry!”

Aelia quickly chimed in, even though her stomach had rumbled the loudest just moments ago.

Sylvia simply smiled gently without saying a word. She turned and walked toward the small, makeshift stove.

The stove was ice-cold. On top of it lay only an old knife with a chipped edge and a flat stone serving as a cutting board.

She picked up the black bread, which was as hard as a piece of wood, and placed it on the stone slab.

Then, gripping the knife handle with both hands, she positioned the blade against one end of the bread and pressed down with force.

The bread barely moved, leaving only a shallow cut on its surface.

The hardness of black bread far exceeded the ordinary. Its only advantages were that it was cheap, filling, and could be stored for a long time. For the lower-class residents of the Demon Realm, this was their guarantee of survival.

Sylvia did not lose heart. She adjusted the angle slightly, leaned her body weight onto it, and pressed down again with force.

This time, the blade sank in a little with difficulty. She continued this way, using all her strength to slice the black bread bit by bit.

With every downward press, the muscles in her arms trembled faintly. The cold sweat that had only just dried on her forehead seemed to bead up again.

Sylvia cut very slowly and very carefully, slicing off only a thin piece each time. Such hard bread had to be cut into thin slices to make it easier for her daughters to eat—and to make it appear like there was more of it.

One slice, then another. Unevenly sized deep-brown bread slices gradually piled up into a small stack on the flat stone slab.

Watching her mother struggle, Aelia could no longer sit still. She jumped to her feet.

“Mom, let me help you!”

“No need.”

Sylvia didn’t even raise her head. Her voice sounded a bit louder due to the effort.

“This is too hard to cut. It’s easy to hurt your hand.”

Halfway through speaking, Sylvia seemed to remember something. Her gaze swept over the water kettle made of hammered scrap iron beside the stove, and she said,

“Aelia, Sophia, could you two go boil a kettle of water? Be careful.”

“Okay!”

Aelia responded immediately. This task clearly made her feel more useful. Sophia also stood up silently. The two girls began working together with practiced coordination.

Aelia carefully scooped some water from a nearly empty bucket in the corner of the room using a broken clay jar and poured it into the iron kettle.

Sophia felt around under the stove and pulled out a few dull-colored fuel blocks—seemingly made from compressed magic plant residue mixed with dirt—then stuffed them into the stove chamber. She patiently struck a flint to light them.

Orange-yellow flames flickered to life, bringing a thin trace of warmth and dancing light and shadow into the cold little house.

Boiling water took time. Sylvia focused on the knife and bread in her hands.

Just as she finished slicing the bread, the water came to a boil. The iron kettle let out a sharp, urgent whistle as white steam rose in curling wisps.

At that moment, Sylvia finally cut the last small slice of bread.

The thin bread slices filled an entire plate. Under the flickering dim firelight, they actually took on a somewhat warm and appetizing hue.

Sylvia carried the precious plate of bread over to the wobbly little wooden table and set it down.

Then, she picked up the still-scalding iron kettle and slowly poured the steaming hot water into the only relatively intact large clay bowl on the table.

The hot water filled more than half the bowl, steam rising in billows.

Next, under the curious and expectant gazes of her two daughters, she bent down and reached into a small hole beneath the stove that served as a cabinet. She felt around and pulled out a small ball tightly wrapped in oil paper.

“There’s only one left… looks like I’ll have to buy more soon…” Sylvia secretly sighed to herself.

She carefully peeled open the oil paper and gently dropped the small ball into the large bowl filled with boiling water.

A wondrous reaction occurred.

As soon as the gray-brown ball touched the hot water, its surface began to sizzle. It rapidly expanded, softened, and dissolved.

Its color changed from gray-brown to a murky, slightly yellowish-green paste, releasing a scent that wasn’t particularly pleasant but wasn’t unpleasant either.

This small ball was a common quick-prep food in the lower levels of the Demon Realm, known as “thick soup” balls.

Although the taste was bland and it lacked nutrition, it provided the most basic calories and a feeling of fullness. Most importantly, it was cheap.

Dinner was now officially ready.

A small plate of thinly sliced black bread and a large bowl of steaming thick soup.

“Alright, time to eat.” Sylvia’s voice carried a hint of relief at having completed the task.

She first picked up a slice of bread, dipped it gently into the warm soup as a demonstration, letting the hard bread soak up some broth and soften a little. Only then did she put it in her mouth and chew slowly.

Aelia had been waiting impatiently for a while. She copied her mother’s action and grabbed a slice of bread. However, instead of dipping it lightly, she boldly pushed half the slice into the soup, stirred it a few times, and when she pulled it out, the bread was heavy and soaked through with broth.

Then she opened her mouth wide—ah-wu—and took a big bite. She chewed with her cheeks puffed out, a little soup even dripping from the corner of her mouth. She didn’t care at all. Her emerald-green eyes narrowed in satisfaction as she let out a muffled praise.

“Mmm… so good!”

“Eat slowly, be careful.”

Sylvia shook her head helplessly and reached out to wipe the soup from the corner of Aelia’s mouth.

In comparison, Sophia’s way of eating was much more refined and restrained.

She carefully held the edge of the bread slice and only dipped a small corner shallowly into the soup. Once it had softened, she took tiny bites, chewing delicately and almost without making a sound.

Quietly watching her younger sister devour her food and her mother—though still tired—whose brows had relaxed, Sophia’s face, half-hidden behind her bread, revealed a faint, shallow smile.

Inside the tiny wooden house, for a moment there were only the soft sounds of chewing, the slurping of soup (mostly from Aelia), and the occasional crackle of embers popping in the stove.

The food might have been simple, the firelight weak, and the house shabby, but at this moment, warmth and a simple yet solid sense of satisfaction truly filled this small space, temporarily driving away the chill outside the door and the harshness of survival.

Sylvia ate her soup-dipped bread in small bites, her gaze gently lingering on her two daughters.

The fatigue in her body remained, and the dizziness from blood loss had not completely faded. Yet watching them eat with such relish, the painful memory of being treated as food by Ilena seemed to fade a little.

“Thump, thump, thump!”

Heavy knocking sounded at the door, shattering the warm atmosphere inside the house.