Three days ter, Monica, Albert, and Penelope, along with Leon, his companions, and several maids, waited outside the ornate gate. Moments ter, a carriage arrived, followed by five others. The central carriage stopped before them, and the door opened. A miniature replica of Monica emerged. Everyone was surprised, for she was not only as beautiful as her mother, with piercing blue eyes and long, flowing golden hair, but also remarkably tall for a six-year-old, standing at five feet five inches.

  “Mother!” Lalinia excimed happily.

  “Daughter!” Monica replied.

  They embraced warmly.

  “I missed you so much, Mother,” Lalinia said.

  “Me too,” Monica replied.

  She stepped back from the embrace and introduced Lalinia to the Ryler family.

  “This is the Duke, Albert,” Monica said, gesturing to Albert.

  “Your Grace, it is an honor to be in your presence,” Lalinia said, slightly bending her knees before making eye contact.

  “She is Penelope, my best friend and the Duchess’s wife,” Monica said.

  “My Lady, I hope this day finds you well,” Lalinia said, bending her knees slightly before making brief eye contact.

  “And this is Leon, the Duke’s son,” Monica continued.

  “My Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Lalinia said, slightly bending her knees before making eye contact.

  Alice nudged Leon, prompting him to reply.

  “I’m delighted to meet you,” Leon responded, offering a deep curtsy.

  “These are Alice and Alicia,” Monica said.

  “Oh, what a delight! You are too beautiful to be a maid,” Lalinia said in awe.

  “Oh, thank you,” Alice said. She paused, a bit timid. “But, you see,” she gestured to her still-short hair, “I’m still growing my hair back.”

  Leon and Alice’s hair was still recovering. Alice’s silver hair was short, but her fur in her fppy ears was almost normal.

  “Either way, you look marvelous, almost…divine,” Lalinia said.

  “Please don’t tease me anymore,” Alice said, smiling sheepishly.

  Alicia did not wait for Lalinia to greet her. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Lady Lalinia,” she said, bowing her head.

  “The pleasure is mine, Lady Alicia,” Lalinia replied.

  The maids took Lalinia’s luggage and retreated into the castle.

  As they walked, Penelope approached Lalinia. “Lalinia, I’d like to speak with your mother.”

  “Yes, my dy,” she replied with a curtsy.

  “Please,” Penelope said, “we’re family here. Spare us the formalities. Just call me Penelope.”

  “As you wish, Penelope,” Lalinia said.

  “Good. Thank you.”

  Penelope drew Monica aside from the group.

  “I thought your daughter was six years old,” she said, confusion evident on her face.

  “She is,” Monica replied.

  Penelope gave her a suspicious look.

  “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Monica said. “Have you forgotten who Zigyor is?”

  “I know, I’m just a little surprised,” Penelope said.

  “You’re surprised? I was even more surprised when I first met your son. That’s not common, even if you read the entire library of Pangaea, fiction or not,” Monica said.

  “Are you saying my child is worse?” Penelope asked.

  “No, I’m saying Leon is a special case. And even I like your son,” Monica said.

  Penelope’s eyes narrowed, taken aback. “Don’t tell me you have…”

  Monica cut her off, chuckling and covering her mouth with her fan. Penelope could see a pyful gleam in her eyes. “Of course not. Though I…” she paused, prompting Penelope to interject hastily.

  “Though what?” Penelope asked.

  Penelope’s reaction only fueled Monica’s teasing. She let out a soft ugh. “Nothing. But I heard that Alicia grew strong suddenly. Based on the rumors, the change occurred after she became your son’s lover.”

  Penelope’s eyes darted away from Monica’s.

  “I knew it,” Monica excimed.

  “What do you want?” Penelope asked.

  “I want my daughter to be your son’s wife,” Monica said with a wide smile.

  “What? Just like that? Do you think my son will agree to this?”

  “I’m sure he will. Have you seen your son when he first met my daughter?” Monica said.

  Penelope gave her a stern look.

  “Rex, my friend,” Monica said with a gentle smile. “I’m not forcing my daughter on your son. I just want to see her power grow exponentially. It will certainly help her survive the coming horrors. Please understand, my dear friend.”

  “You’re right. I do understand. I’m a mother too. I love my son as you love your daughter. If it’s necessary, then so be it. But please, keep this a secret. I don’t want my son to attract more attention than he already has. You know how the kingdom will react, don’t you?”

  “Are you saying it’s his inherent skill?” Monica asked, her eyes widening as Penelope nodded. “Oh my. That is a bit concerning, don’t you think?”

  “Worry not,” Penelope reassured her. “We’ve already advised him to be responsible. I know he understands what we mean.”

  “Is your daughter aware of this?” Penelope continued.

  “Not yet. I’m pnning to tell her tonight before I return,” Monica answered.

  “So you’re leaving? When?” Penelope asked.

  “After my daughter’s training. Without me or my daughter, my husband will surely be lonely,” Monica said.

  “I wish you success,” Penelope said.

  “Thank you. I’m hopeful,” Monica replied.

  Lalinia was a daughter of privilege, born into a world of silk and velvet, of feasts and festivals. At four, she already looks 12, at six, she already look on a cusp of adultescent. Her body, fully developed. Though a human, her growth are simir to other race, especially of those rge kinds of Beastkin. She is beautiful as her mother with the same piercing blue eyes and a stubborn streak as long as her father's sword. She was a curious human, her mind always racing, always seeking answers. Her intelligence, though often used to charm and manipute, was undeniable. She is a master of subtle tactics, a cunning creature. She’d wheedle her way into getting what she wanted, her sweet smile masking a determined heart. When she was just two years old, her tutors often found themselves at their wits end, her sharp questions challenging their knowledge. Lalinia is a precocious being.

  Her father, Zigyor is a human, but a towering figure, significantly taller than the average human, but not monstrously so. His height grants him an imposing presence: Broad-shouldered and muscur, with a physique honed through years of rigorous training and combat. His muscles are define and powerful. Albert had first seen Zigyor amidst a group of elite A-rank adventurers, a beacon of hope and courage. Yet, fate had dealt a cruel blow. A tragic encounter with an S-rank Silver Monster in a A-rank dungeon had cims the lives of his entire team. The once vibrant spirit was extinguished, leaving behind a shell of a man, haunted by loss and despair.

  Zigyor’s decent into darkness was palpable. He was always drunk at the Adventurer's guild, sometime causing ruckus, a solitary figure consumed by grief. His once bright eyes were now clouded with sorrow, his ughter were now repced by bitter silence.

  Three months ter, after a successful commission, Albert’s team returned to the adventurer’s guild to report. After some time, they overheard a group of adventurers discussing how a rge man with a gloomy appearance had ventured into the heart of orc territory, an act considered suicidal due to the overwhelming odds. Monica pleaded with Albert that they should save him. Tiffany and Penelope agreed as well. Albert, recognizing the waste of letting such talent perish, agreed too. They knew he was talented and strong, just a little lost.

  Driven by a sense of compassion, Albert and his team resolved to intervene. With haste, they raced towards the orc settlement, their hearts heavy with concern. The scene that unfolded was a grim testament to Zigyor's desperation; he had killed several orcs but had also received heavy injuries. A lone warrior, battered and bloodied, he fought against the horde of monstrous creatures.

  With a swift invocation of divine healing, Monica used her staff to stem the flow of life from Zigyor's wounds. Albert and Penelope unched an offensive attack, while Monica buffed them all, enhancing their abilities. Tiffany protected Monica and Zigyor. Together, they turned the tide of the battle, killing the orcs and securing their position. In that moment, a glimmer of hope rekindled within Zigyor. A few days ter, he decided to accept Albert's invitation and became their powerful tank. Later on, he married Monica.