Chapter 2
"Pa... pa…?"
The syllable slipped through her lips before her brain could even send the command to abort. It was a meaningless, involuntary vibration of a baby's underdeveloped vocal cords, yet in Elyra's mind, a catastrophic storm was raging.
The man who decapitated me mere hours ago… is now my father?
Damnern froze. For half a second, the overwhelming aura of the Fifth Strongest Warrior vanished entirely. In its place, his face illuminated with a blinding, almost sickeningly pure joy. The cold-blooded executioner who had hunted Ryudien through the alleys was now grinning like a fool.
"Just now… Elyra called Papa 'Papa,' right? Say it again," Damnern whispered excitedly, leaning in closer.
Before Elyra could even attempt to process this absurdity, the heavy wooden door was shoved open with terrifying force.
"Daaaaaaaaaarling!!"
Elina Solv stood in the doorway. Damnern's face lit up further. "Darling… Elyra just called me—"
His excitement died instantly. Elina's face was dark, her green eyes flashing with a ferocity that made even Elyra—a former elite assassin—flinch reflexively.
"I just spent an hour putting her to sleep, and you wake her up again!" Elina hissed, her voice kept low but dripping with venom. Her eyes then swept over his attire, and her expression curled into deep disgust. "And you haven't even bathed… Whose blood is that? Did you slaughter someone again?"
Damnern's broad shoulders slumped. The towering warrior straightened up defensively, looking remarkably like a scolded cadet. "I… I…"
"Don't. I don't want to hear it." Elina stepped forward, effortlessly slipping Elyra from his massive, bloodstained hands and cradling her with practiced care. "You take lives too easily, Damnern. That 'target' you executed tonight… he probably had his own painful reasons for doing what he did. Just like you always claim your reasons are 'justice.'"
Elyra's tiny chest tightened violently.
What?
For seven years, Ryudien had been a tool for the Noxes Organisation. A dog meant to kill and die in the shadows. Not once in his miserable past life had anyone ever stopped to consider his reasons, let alone defend him. And now, the warmth of Elina's arms and the quiet empathy in her voice struck something buried very deep within his scarred, cynical soul.
Without warning, a stinging sensation pricked her eyes. Tears welled up and spilled over her chubby cheeks before she could lock them away. Damn this fragile body. I can't control anything.
"Oh no, my little one," Elina cooed softly, pressing her cheek against Elyra's. "Mama's not angry at you. Shhh… don't cry."
Damnern stood awkwardly by the crib, his terrifying presence reduced to that of a helpless, lost man.
Later that night, the house finally fell silent.
Elyra lay wide awake in her crib, staring up at the carved wooden ceiling. The sheer absurdity of her existence weighed heavily on her mind.
Out of everyone I could have become... why did I have to be reborn as a girl?
The gender shift was jarring, but it was nothing compared to the loss of physical autonomy. She had been a master of magic, a shadow who could manifest clones and move faster than the wind. Now, she couldn't even lift her own head without her neck trembling.
But a darker, more confusing question lingered.
Her gaze drifted toward the slightly ajar door. Outside, the man who had ended her life was currently humming a terribly off-key lullaby while pacing the hallway. The hands that had wielded the Sword without a shred of hesitation were the same hands that had gently stroked her hair just an hour ago.
Are they truly the same person? Or is this a sick illusion created by the god to punish me?
The next morning, golden sunlight spilled across the living room, painting the house in a serene, peaceful hue.
Damnern—now completely scrubbed of blood and smelling of fresh soap—was kneeling on the carpet in front of Elina, wearing an expression of profound guilt.
"I… I'm sorry, dear…" he murmured. "I just lost my mind for a second. Seeing her awake for the first time… I forgot myself."
Elina let out a long, helpless sigh, though the sharp edge from last night had vanished, replaced by a faint, amused smile. She reached out, gently brushing his silver hair. "You're hopeless, you know that?"
Elyra watched them silently from Elina's lap. The terrifying Damnern Solv—the monster with the striking blue eyes—was completely absent.
"Just remember," Elina reminded him softly. "Leave the blood and the sword at the door. I won't have you showing that side of yourself to Elyra."
Damnern laughed foolishly, then immediately turned and contorted his face into a bizarre, exaggerated expression, trying to make Elyra laugh.
Elyra stared at him blankly. This idiot killed me. This absolute buffoon bested me in combat.
A heavy sigh echoed inside her teenage mind. I don't even know when my mental walls started cracking. Ever since waking up in this body, my emotions feel raw. Slippery. The last time I cried as Ryudien was the night I got my scar. Now, I cry because I'm hungry.
The comforting scent of warm milk and baked bread filled the room. Suddenly, the rapid patter of tiny feet echoed from the hallway.
"Papa! Eden wants to see Eyya!"
A small boy practically threw himself into the room. It was Eldern Solv, Damnern and Elina's three-year-old son. Shaking his head of chaotic silver hair, he blinked his wide, green eyes—a direct inheritance from his mother. He stared at Elyra with a terrifying mix of pure curiosity and chaotic energy.
Damnern chuckled, effortlessly scooping the boy up with one arm. "Be gentle, Eldern. Your little sister is still fragile. Let's look at her together."
"Bwa… baaa… baba!!" Elyra babbled defensively, trying to command them to step back. Don't look at me with those pitying eyes!
"Papa! Did chu hear dat? Eyya said she loves Eden!" Eldern gasped, his face lighting up. "Eden loves Eyya too!"
I absolutely did not say that! Elyra screamed internally.
"You're way too confident, Eldern. What she really said was that she loves Papa the most," Damnern corrected, nodding sagely.
"Ba… babawaaa?!" Elyra screeched. When did I ever say that?!
"Yes, dear, Papa loves you too," Damnern replied warmly.
Elyra tried to summon the coldest, most bloodcurdling glare she had perfected in her past life. Unfortunately, her infant facial muscles betrayed her entirely. Instead of a look of death, her face contorted into what appeared to be an adorable, gummy smile.
"Gods, she's so cute," Damnern groaned, immediately swooping in to pick her up.
Elyra went limp. I surrender. This body is a prison.
Eldern extended his tiny, chubby index finger toward her. Elyra looked at it. He's just a kid. I suppose I can humor him, she thought, reaching out to grab it—only then realizing that her own hand was significantly smaller than his.
"Papa, Eyya is holding Eden's finger!" Eldern cheered.
Not wanting to be left out, Damnern immediately shoved his massive, calloused finger into her line of sight. "Here, hold Papa's too."
Elyra closed her eyes. Someone hand me a scythe and end this misery.
One month passed.
Life as an infant was a torturous exercise in patience. Elyra spent her days trapped in a cycle of sleeping, feeding, and pretending to sleep just so Damnern would stop making ridiculous noises at her.
Every minor bodily function she managed to control—like rolling over without assistance—was treated like a historic victory. Elina would cheer, Damnern would dramatically weep that he hadn't recorded it on a memory crystal, and Eldern would proudly declare her the smartest baby in the world.
And yet… a strange, invasive warmth was taking root in her chest.
Every time Elina hummed a soft melody while rocking her. Every time Damnern quietly snuck into the nursery in the dead of night, just to make sure she was still breathing. Every time Eldern clumsily shared his toys with her.
This… isn't so bad.
The intrusive thought terrified her.
No. I can't forget. He killed me. He took away my life, my magic, my dignity.
But when Damnern gently kissed her forehead before leaving for a mission, whispering, "Papa will always come back to protect you, Elyra," the burning hatred in her soul felt… muffled. Distant. Confusing.
Elyra closed her eyes as the sunlight warmed her crib.
Just wait, Damnern Solv.
One day… when I have my strength back… I will make you pay.
She let out a soft, sleepy yawn, curling her tiny fingers into a fist.
…But maybe not today.
To be Continued...