I Was Reborn in Another World, But I Awoke Inside a Corpse

Chapter 326: When the Time Comes

The wind whispered faintly through the arched balcony of the eastern observatory, carrying the scent of spell-treated paper and blooming mana orchids. The academy felt different tonight. Softer. Sharper. As if the world itself had exhaled after a long breath held.

Lisette stood quietly at the balcony's edge, her sketchbook closed, her thoughts louder than any storm. She had not expected Isaac to come. She had not expected him to speak so gently. And yet—he had seen everything.

The drawings. The dreams. The feelings she hadn't dared name aloud.

He stood behind her now, only a few steps away, as calm and solid as the mountain winds he sometimes summoned. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but sure.

"You're important to me, Lisette."

She turned slightly, just enough to see his expression out of the corner of her eye. His gaze wasn't distant. It wasn't dismissive. It was kind—and laced with something deeper. Something careful.

"But you're still growing."

Those words struck deep—but not cruelly. Not as rejection.

Rather, as… reverence.

Isaac stepped forward, slowly, and touched her shoulder with the lightest brush of his fingers. "Your heart is full of things most people never understand. You carry pain, strength, and gentleness like an artist carries ink. But you still have time ahead of you—to live, to learn, to choose who you want to be."

Lisette lowered her eyes.

A soft ache pulsed behind her ribs.

"I'm not telling you no," he said. "But I'm asking you to give yourself time. Let your light grow until even you can see it."

Lisette swallowed.

And then she smiled—a small, breathless smile like spring breaking through frost.

"I understand," she whispered.

But before he could step back—

—she rose on her toes,

—and kissed him.

It wasn't a long kiss.

It wasn't burning with desire or draped in fantasy.

It was a promise.

A wordless vow drawn in the shape of her lips, given gently against his mouth. She lingered just long enough for him to feel it—that she loved him, fully, quietly, and without regret.

Then she pulled back.

Eyes wide.

Cheeks burning red.

Isaac blinked. "Lisette—"

"Sorrysorrysorry—!" she squeaked, already turning.

Her tail fluffed out like a startled fox, and she bolted out the archway, feet light, silver ink sketchbook clutched to her chest as if to protect her heart from exploding.

Isaac stood alone on the balcony.

One hand slowly rose to touch his lips.

And for the first time in a long while, he smiled.

Not a warrior's grin.

Not a tired god's breath.

But a real, small smile that reached into something softer.

"When the time comes…" he murmured to the stars, "I'll be ready too."

Chapter 327: "Not Impressed"

Lilith had heard about Arx Aurelia her whole short life.

The great floating academy of Terra. The pride of mortal civilization. A nexus of arcane theory, elemental mastery, and magical tradition. She had read the history scrolls, reviewed the curriculum, even memorized the alumni list alphabetically—though she had ranked them all in secret based on how "cool" their magical titles sounded.

So when Papa took her by the hand and said, "Want to see the academy?" her eyes lit up like moonfire.

"Yes."

She expected wonder.

She expected marvels.

She expected something at least 60% as impressive as Emberlight.

She was ready to be amazed.

At first, she was.

The halls were wide and glowing, with floating books and self-writing chalkboards. Elemental braziers lined the walls, and flying platforms carried students from one spire to another. Professors debated aloud in thunder-voiced incantations, and shimmering training fields roared with spellwork.

Lilith's violet eyes sparkled.

She even clapped—once—when someone used a mid-tier spatial compression spell to fold an entire practice field into a grain of sand.

"Not bad," she said, nodding.

Isaac chuckled. "I figured you'd be curious."

"I am," she replied, watching a water-sphere duel from the top row of the coliseum. "I've never seen a group of mortals try so hard to contain fire with mud."

"That's... water."

"It's mud if they don't know how to shape tension curves."

He blinked. "…Right."

But as the day wore on, something began to shift.

She toured the artifact vault: "Papa's storage vault in Emberlight reshapes itself when he walks in."

She visited the Alchemy Pavilion: "This place smells like regret and boiling cabbage."

She observed a shield formation test: "That would get them killed in under ten seconds if a Spirit Beast sneezed on them."

By mid-afternoon, Lilith sat cross-legged on a sunlit garden wall, frowning slightly as a trio of wind apprentices levitated nearby.

Isaac sat beside her. "Tired?"

"No," she said, poking a mana crystal. "Just… underwhelmed."

He raised a brow. "You wanted to see the best school in Terra."

"I thought I did," she replied honestly. "But it all feels… slow. Confused. Like they're proud of building a tower with one hand when they could shape a sky with two."

Isaac tilted his head. "That's a little harsh."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "They treat their limits like virtues. I guess I got spoiled."

"By what?"

"You, Papa," she said, leaning against him. "You made a world that listens. A world where magic flows because it wants to, not because it's forced to obey rules drawn centuries ago by people who couldn't dream bigger."

Isaac blinked.

She continued, quieter now, "In Emberlight, the trees remember your touch. The rivers hum when Mama walks by. Even the wild beasts listen when you speak."

Lilith hugged her knees. "Here, everything feels… borrowed. Impressive, but borrowed. As if they're holding onto old tools and pretending that's progress."

Isaac looked up at the sky, thoughtful.

"I guess," she added, "once you've lived inside a miracle, everything else just feels like echo."

He looked down at her and smiled. "And what are you, exactly?"

Lilith smirked. "The favorite miracle."

They didn't stay long after that.

She told him politely that the tour was sufficient, that she appreciated the chance to learn.

But when they returned to the portal, and the shimmering gate to Emberlight opened—

Lilith practically ran through it.

And as the warm mana of her father's world embraced her once more, she sighed in relief, stretched her arms, and declared:

"Finally. Home."

Chapter 328: A World That Grows With Him

Emberlight had changed.

No—it was still changing.

From the skyward arc of new starlit mountains to the whispering forests that now sprawled in every direction beyond the old borders, the land pulsed like a living memory—reshaped daily by the will of its creator.

The sky had deepened. The rivers glowed brighter. The oceans whispered secrets into the minds of those who listened.

And the borders had expanded.

Where once it had mirrored the size of a small kingdom, Emberlight now dwarfed even the grandest nations of Terra. Ten times larger than the entire world that once called itself dominant. Its horizon now extended beyond conventional mapping, spiraling across biomes, dimensional pockets, and soul-attuned groves that shimmered with identity.

All of it—grown by Isaac.

By his presence.

By his will.

By his love.

Lilith had been right: this world didn't contain him.

It grew with him.

Sylvalen stood beneath the blooming canopy of the Elaraiyan Glade, her platinum-silver hair catching the golden breeze. Trees from her homeland had taken root here, enriched by the mana of Emberlight, their blossoms glittering like stars. This grove was her favorite place—where echoes of her elven culture and Isaac's dream intertwined.

And Lira stood beside her, gazing up at the same blooming sky.

Sylvalen broke the silence.

"I want to have his child."

Lira didn't look surprised.

The wind stirred her crimson mantle as she exhaled softly. "I know."

Sylvalen glanced sideways, green-blue eyes softening. "You don't mind?"

Lira hesitated. Then shook her head. "I… I love him. But I'm not ready. Not to be a mother."

She smiled faintly, sadness and pride woven together.

"But you are. And if anyone's going to give him something that precious, I'm glad it's you."

Sylvalen's lips parted—caught off guard not by the words, but the sincerity in them.

"I used to think," Lira continued, "that sharing him would feel like losing. But it's not. Because you and I… we're part of something larger than romance. This place. This life. His heart. It has room for more than one kind of love."

Sylvalen stepped closer.

"I would never push you out, Lira."

"I know," Lira whispered. "And I'll hold your hand when the time comes. Even if I'm not the one giving him a child… I'll be her aunt. And I'll protect both of you."

Sylvalen reached out and clasped her hand.

And for a moment, there were no titles between them. No jealousy. No fear.

Just two women who loved the same man—differently, but deeply—and who had found peace in sharing something far more sacred than ownership.

Far above, on a floating terrace made of light and breath, Lilith watched them both with folded arms and a satisfied nod.

"They're figuring it out," she murmured. "Good."

A small, glowing spirit-beast curled at her feet let out a purring chirp.

Lilith smiled, violet eyes gleaming with far too much wisdom for someone barely a month old.

"One day, I won't be the only miracle in Papa's arms."

She paused.

Then added, grinning: "But I'll always be the first."

Chapter 329: The Next Step

—Sylvalen POV—

The twilight sky above Emberlight glowed with its eternal hues—soft lavender, drifting gold, and gentle pinks that danced across silver-leaf trees. Sylvalen walked quietly along the banks of the Moonshade River, where spirit-lilies floated on glowing currents and the air tasted faintly of starlight.

She often came here to reflect.

But tonight… she was not here for solitude.

Her fingers curled slightly around the small bloom she carried—a starlily, its petals shimmering with subtle resonance. It wasn't for magic. It wasn't for ritual.

It was for courage.

Isaac waited ahead, standing at the river's edge. He'd sensed her coming before she spoke. He always did.

"Syl," he said, turning toward her with that soft smile only she ever received. "You're quiet tonight."

She stepped forward, unsure if she was nervous or simply reverent.

"Isaac," she said, voice steady. "I've made my decision."

He tilted his head. "About?"

Her heart pounded, but she didn't flinch.

"I want to have your child."

The wind paused, as if the world itself leaned in.

Isaac didn't respond immediately. His gaze softened—but behind his calm, Sylvalen could see it. The surprise. The weight. The reflection. He wasn't pushing her away.

He was simply listening.

She continued, her voice low, sincere. "This world… it grows with you. It's alive because of your heart. And when I walk through it, when I hear the laughter of the people we saved, when I see Lilith—when I feel what we've built—my spirit knows something's missing."

She stepped closer, lifting the glowing flower.

"I want to create life with you. Not because it's expected. Not because it proves anything. But because I love you, Isaac. Because you've shown me that love is more than poetry or promises—it's creation. It's healing. It's home."

He took the flower gently from her hands.

Their fingers brushed.

"Sylvalen…" His voice was quiet. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Even knowing what I am? What the future might bring?"

She looked him in the eyes—no hesitation.

"I don't want a perfect life. I want a shared one."

Isaac was silent for a moment, staring at the riverlight. Then he turned to her fully and gently cupped her cheek.

"I've lived as fire and ash, as blade and silence," he whispered. "But with you, I've learned what it means to be more than that. If this is your wish… then I won't deny it."

Tears shimmered in her eyes—but she didn't cry.

Instead, she leaned forward.

Their foreheads touched.

No more words were needed.

From the cliff above, a tiny figure sat on a glowing rock, arms folded.

Lilith blinked once.

Then nodded in approval.

"One miracle becomes two," she murmured. "This'll be interesting."

Chapter 330: "The Blooming Night" (18+)

The petals of the starlily drifted from Isaac's fingers as he let them fall into the Moonshade River.

Each petal glowed faintly, pulsing once with warmth before vanishing into the glowing current, like wishes being carried into the roots of the world he had shaped.

Sylvalen stood beside him, silent, eyes half-lowered. The wind played through her platinum hair, curling it gently around her shoulders. She looked radiant—not because of any spell or divine blood—but because she stood with her heart open, without fear.

"I don't know what kind of father I'll be," Isaac said softly, still staring at the river.

Sylvalen reached out, her hand wrapping around his.

"You'll be the kind who listens," she replied. "The kind who protects without chaining. The kind who makes space for others to bloom."

He looked at her then—truly looked.

And Sylvalen stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Her hands rested against his chest.

His arms slipped around her waist.

And when she rose to kiss him, it wasn't a question.

It was a yes.

They walked together beneath the moonlit trees, following no path but instinct. The grove shifted around them, petals opening with every step. The ground glowed faintly where their feet touched, like the world itself blessing what was about to unfold.

Sylvalen looked up at him once more.

"I've never belonged to anyone," she said quietly. "But I want to give myself to you—fully. Not as a princess. Not as a diplomat. Just as me."

Isaac gently brushed his fingers along her cheek. "And I will hold you as you are. Not because I saved you. Not because you're perfect. But because you've walked beside me, through everything."

The canopy parted overhead, revealing a nest of starlight.

The air turned warmer.

With a swift motion, Isaac tugged at the laces of Sylvalen's corset, his fingers eager and skilled. The garment fell away, revealing the porcelain expanse of her skin, the rosy peaks of her breasts standing at attention, begging for his mouth. He obliged, capturing a pert nipple between his lips, teasing it with his tongue until Sylvalen let out a low, guttural moan that seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath them.

Sylvalen's hands found their way to Isaac's trousers, her fingers deftly undoing the fastenings to free his rock-hard cock. It sprang forth, eager and throbbing, a bead of precum glistening at its tip. She stroked him with a firm grip, her movements deliberate and measured, each stroke stoking the fire within him.

"I want you inside me," Sylvalen breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of her deepest desire.

Isaac needed no further invitation. He laid Sylvalen down upon the soft grass, the gentle sounds of the river providing a natural symphony to their lovemaking. He spread her legs wide, exposing the glistening pink of her pussy, slick with need. With a hunger that bordered on savage, he buried his face between her thighs, his tongue delving into her folds, lapping at her nectar.

Sylvalen's hips bucked against his mouth as he feasted upon her, her fingers tangling in his black hair, pulling him closer still. He sucked on her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send her spiraling towards ecstasy. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, her pussy pulsating against his tongue as she cried out in pleasure.

But Isaac was not done with her yet. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock teasing her sensitive flesh. With a single, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself inside her, filling her completely. Sylvalen's walls clenched around him, a perfect, velvet vise that threatened to milk him dry.

They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, each stroke of Isaac's cock driving them closer to the precipice. Sylvalen's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, her body arching to meet his thrusts. The sound of their flesh slapping together mingled with their panting breaths, a testament to their raw, unbridled lust.

"Fuck me harder, Isaac," Sylvalen demanded, her voice laced with an urgency that spoke of her need to feel him explode within her.

Isaac complied, his pace increasing, his balls slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust. He could feel the telltale tingle at the base of his spine, the sign that his release was imminent. But he wanted to savor this moment, to draw out their pleasure for as long as possible.

He flipped Sylvalen onto her hands and knees, admiring the curve of her back as she presented herself to him. He entered her from behind, his hands gripping her hips as he drove into her with renewed vigor. Sylvalen pushed back against him, her moans growing louder with each thrust.

Isaac reached around to stroke her clit, his fingers working in tandem with his cock. Sylvalen's body tensed, her pussy clamping down on him as she came again, her orgasm triggering his own. With a final, forceful thrust, Isaac buried himself deep within her, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick seed.

They collapsed onto the grass, their bodies slick with sweat and intertwined in the afterglow of their passion. Isaac could feel his sperm seeping out of Sylvalen, a reminder of the life they hoped to create together.

"Again," Sylvalen whispered, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of satisfaction and determination.

And so they continued, their lovemaking a marathon of lust and longing. Isaac took Sylvalen in every way imaginable, their bodies a testament to their insatiable desire for one another. He fucked her on the riverbank, in the shallow waters of the stream, and even suspended from the sturdy branches of an ancient oak.

With each subsequent release, Isaac felt a piece of himself being claimed by Sylvalen, his seed marking her as his in the most primal way possible. And with each injection of his sperm, Sylvalen's conviction that she would conceive grew stronger. She was acutely aware of the conception taking place within her womb, each flood of warmth a potential beginning of new life.

Sylvalen's hand rested on her belly, a smile playing on her lips as she contemplated the future. Isaac, ever the attentive lover, traced lazy patterns on her skin, his touch a silent promise of the life they would build together.

In the quiet of the evening, with the stars beginning to twinkle in the twilight sky, Isaac and Sylvalen shared one last, tender lovemaking session. It was slow and deep, a dance of two bodies moving in perfect harmony. And as Isaac released inside Sylvalen for the thirtieth time, he knew that no matter what the future held, they had created something beautiful, something that was a testament to their love.

And beneath the whispering glow of Emberlight's sky—

Where divinity had no need to speak, and nature knelt in reverence—

Two souls, equal in fire and faith, came together as one.

The world exhaled.

The river shimmered.

And the night bloomed.

Fade to black.

Chapter 331: Morning Mischief

The morning in Emberlight was never loud.

It didn't come with the blare of horns or the screech of birds—only the soft glow of golden mist rising from the Moonshade River, and the gentle sigh of the trees as sunlight filtered through their translucent leaves. It was a world that woke slowly, like a dream that never really ended.

And in that silence, Isaac opened his eyes.

Sylvalen lay beside him, wrapped in the warmth of a spirit-blossom quilt, her silver-blonde hair spilled across his bare chest. She was still asleep, breathing in slow, peaceful rhythm. Her hand rested lightly over his heart.

She looked radiant.

No armor. No title. No weight.

Just her.

He smiled and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

"Still here?" she whispered, not opening her eyes yet.

"Always," he replied.

They lay there for a while longer, neither rushing the moment. The grove still shimmered faintly around them—petals drifting lazily, spirit birds chirping from high boughs.

And then…

"I was wondering when you'd stop pretending to be asleep."

Isaac's entire body froze.

Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head—

—and found Lilith sitting cross-legged on a nearby spirit stone, glowing faintly with inner light, her hands folded in her lap and her face utterly serene.

She was smiling.

Too calmly.

Sylvalen sat up abruptly, her cheeks immediately coloring. "L-Lilith?!"

"Morning," Lilith chirped.

Isaac swallowed. "How long… have you been there?"

"Long enough to confirm that you two really like each other," she said matter-of-factly. "And that Papa makes weird sounds when he's happy."

Isaac immediately buried his face in his hands.

Sylvalen turned crimson.

"I wanted to wait until the cuddling part before speaking," Lilith added sweetly. "You're welcome."

"…Lilith," Isaac said very carefully, "watching people when they're—intimate—is extremely inappropriate."

She tilted her head. "But I was curious. Isn't this how siblings are made?"

He blinked.

Sylvalen stared.

Lilith's expression didn't waver. "So? When do I get a sister?"

There was a long silence.

Isaac coughed. "We… don't know yet."

"Can we aim for one with silver hair like Mama?" Lilith asked, genuinely excited. "Or maybe one with little horns?"

Sylvalen covered her face with her hands.

Isaac looked at the sky and whispered, "I am not ready for this."

Lilith leaned forward, grinning innocently. "You better get ready, Papa. I plan to be the best big sister ever."

Then she stood, dusted off her dress, and skipped away humming.

Sylvalen flopped back onto the bedding and groaned.

Isaac lay beside her, exhaling slowly.

"At least she's enthusiastic," he muttered.

"Do we… talk to her about boundaries?" Sylvalen asked.

"Yes," he said. "Right after I recover from the emotional trauma."

Chapter 332: Advice from the Queen of Lilyshade

—Sylvalen POV—

She already knew.

Before the spell confirmed it. Before the divine energy stirred in her womb. Even before Isaac's fingers had lingered just a little too long on her pulse, smiling with that quiet awe she had come to treasure.

Sylvalen knew.

She was with child.

Isaac's child.

And though her heart beat faster, she felt no fear. Only a steady warmth blooming in her chest—and a quiet, urgent need to be ready.

That's what brought her here—to Lilyshade Vale, across the glowing bridge of soulwoven crystal, beneath the arches of silverleaf trees. The air shimmered with emotional resonance, the ground soft with rose-gold mist. It was a place made of healing, built from memory, sorrow, and redemption.

And at its center stood Asmodeus.

She knelt in the garden, fingers gently coiled around a soulbloom vine. She wasn't glowing with seduction or demonic pride. She was radiant in stillness, completely at peace, guiding a flower to full bloom with no magic—just patience.

"Your steps are hesitant," Asmodeus said without looking up. "That's not like you."

Sylvalen approached slowly. "It's not hesitation. It's reverence."

Asmodeus turned. Her violet eyes caught Sylvalen's gaze—and softened immediately. "So. It's true."

Sylvalen nodded.

"I carry his child."

They sat together under the arbor where the garden met the moonlight.

Sylvalen folded her hands over her lap. "You've walked this path already. You were the first. And now… I walk it too."

Asmodeus said nothing at first. She simply took Sylvalen's hand in hers.

The gesture wasn't formal. It wasn't diplomatic. It was sisterly.

"You're not alone," Asmodeus said gently. "You never were."

Sylvalen let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "At first, I thought we were rivals. That you and I might always circle each other—respectful, but distant."

Asmodeus smiled. "I thought that too. Until I saw how you looked at him. And how you stayed."

She squeezed her hand softly. "We're not rivals, Sylvalen. Not friends, either."

Sylvalen looked up.

"We're sisters now," Asmodeus said. "Chosen by the same heart. Bound not by obligation… but by love. By the children we'll raise. By the world we're helping him build."

Sylvalen felt the words settle into her bones like truth.

"I want to be a good mother," she said after a moment. "But I'm afraid. Not of the child. But of… failing her. Of not knowing what to do."

"You will," Asmodeus said warmly. "Because you're already asking how. That's what matters."

"And you?"

"Oh, I had no idea what I was doing," Asmodeus laughed. "I tried to hold Lilith like an artifact the first night. I thought she'd shatter. Turns out, babies don't break—but your heart will if you try to be perfect."

Sylvalen chuckled.

Asmodeus leaned forward. "The truth is… she teaches me. Just like yours will teach you. And I'll be there too. Whenever you need help. Or advice. Or just someone to cry with."

Sylvalen's eyes shimmered.

Asmodeus smiled gently. "We're not just sharing a man, Sylvalen. We're sharing a future."

Sylvalen nodded. "Sisterhood, then."

"Forever," Asmodeus whispered, and their hands remained clasped beneath the glowing arbor.

Chapter 333: The Quiet Between Worlds

There were no battles today.

No gods screaming across the sky. No cults clawing at the seams of reality. No fragments of divine wrath waiting to be shattered.

Just silence.

Just wind.

Just Emberlight, breathing around him.

Isaac stood at the edge of a high cliff within the Starlight Mountains, looking out across his world. The horizon stretched farther than it ever had—vast valleys, endless rivers, floating isles alight with warm mana, and cities beginning to rise like dreams given shape.

It was ten times larger than Terra now.

And still, it wasn't the size that humbled him.

It was the quiet.

He placed a hand against the stone railing. It pulsed faintly under his touch—alive. Not just because of mana, but because his will had woven it into being. Every peak, every forest, every stream had bloomed from his choices.

He never imagined this.

Not when he awoke in a corpse. Not when he gasped for breath beneath the earth. Not when he fought monsters, starved in dungeons, or faced the spiral curse.

Back then, all he wanted was to live.

Now?

He was watching a world grow around him.

He thought of them.

Lilith—sharp, radiant, far too clever for her age. A miracle born from love and defiance. She wasn't just a child. She was a reflection of everything he'd hoped the world could be: new, honest, unafraid.

Asmodeus—no longer the feared Queen of Lust, but a sovereign of healing and fierce loyalty. She had given him devotion without chains, softness without fragility, and a child that changed his soul.

Sylvalen—once a distant royal, now someone who chose to walk beside him not because she had to—but because she believed in him. She was with child now. His child.

And Lira—brilliant, passionate, always watching from the edge of his light but never out of it. She wasn't ready to be a mother, and he respected that. But her presence grounded him more than she knew.

Isaac exhaled.

"...I was supposed to be dead."

The words drifted out on the wind, not sad, just honest.

He closed his eyes, feeling the hum of Emberlight beneath his boots. This place wasn't just a refuge. It was a testament—a place where miracles weren't inherited or decreed by gods, but made by those who had suffered and still chosen to build something better.

He opened his hand, summoning a faint ember from his palm.

It danced in the wind, then flickered into the shape of a flower.

He smiled.

"I'm not ready," he said softly. "But I will be."

Father. Partner. Creator. Anchor.

Somewhere between all of that, he was still Isaac.

Still the boy who crawled out of the grave.

But now… he wasn't alone.

And this world—this life—was worth everything.

Chapter 334: One Becomes Two

—Lira POV—

The sun never truly set in Emberlight—not in the way it did in Terra.

Instead, the sky shifted gently, from gold to lilac to rose. It was a world of softened transitions, where light and time flowed more like emotion than measurement.

Lira sat in the courtyard of the Soulforge Grove, sipping crystalfruit tea with Lilith beside her. Across the stone veranda, spirit lanterns glowed faintly above a long table where Sylvalen had asked everyone to gather.

Relia, Lisette, and even Minvera had returned briefly from their studies at Arx Aurelia, summoned not by urgency—but by something else. Something quieter.

Something important.

Sylvalen stood at the head of the table now, her hands resting gently atop her abdomen.

She didn't speak at first.

She simply smiled.

And Lira knew.

"I wanted all of you here," Sylvalen began, her voice steady and filled with warmth, "because this is not just about me. It's about all of us. This world. This family."

She paused, letting the silence settle like dew.

"I'm carrying Isaac's child."

There was no gasp. No chaos. Just a wave of quiet awe. A shared breath.

Then—

"YES!!" Lilith stood on the bench with both hands raised in victory. "I KNEW IT!"

Isaac, seated calmly beside her, covered his face with one hand. "Lilith, please don't—"

"Sister! Sister! Sister!" she chanted, dancing in place.

Lira blinked, then laughed—not from amusement, but from something deeper. From relief. From joy. From clarity.

She rose and crossed the courtyard in three steps, wrapping Sylvalen in a firm embrace.

"I'm so happy for you," Lira whispered. "And I meant what I said before—I'll stand beside you."

Sylvalen's voice was soft, but her eyes shimmered. "Thank you, Lira. I'll need you."

"You have me," she said. "Always."

Around them, the table began to buzz with energy.

Minvera babbled something about building a "baby-safe mana-bouncer."

Lisette quietly drew the moment in silver ink, capturing Sylvalen's posture and the way Lira held her hand.

Even Relia, who rarely spoke, offered a rare smile and murmured, "The world just got a little more balanced."

Later, when the lights dimmed and the celebration became soft music and flickering fireflies, Isaac approached the two women seated together near the garden steps.

"You're both too quiet," he said.

"We're planning how to raise your daughter," Lira replied without looking up. "Don't interrupt."

Isaac blinked. "You don't know it's a girl yet."

"She will be," Sylvalen and Lira said in unison.

Isaac slowly backed away, whispering, "Why am I always outnumbered?"

Lilith popped up from behind a nearby tree. "Because you're destined, Papa."

"Destined for what?"

She grinned. "A very crowded future."