The Murderous Intent from the Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfather

"What's the matter, is Aina busy?"

"Yes, Mother is occupied at the moment."

"What is she doing?" Wolund was somewhat surprised. In all his previous visits, he had never encountered such a situation.

Mida pondered for a moment before replying, "She's doing what she loves."

Wolund blinked, a large question mark seemingly appearing above his head. "Aina... has hobbies?"

He truly couldn't imagine that existence ever showing an expression of joy.

In all his years, from childhood to now, Aina's expression had never seemed to change.

"Anyway, you can't go up now... though if you want to die, you could always try," Mida said with utter seriousness, not seeming to joke in the slightest. "Just so you know, I wouldn’t dare collect your corpse in front of Mother."

"Alright, I get it. I’ll wait here." Wolund shrugged helplessly and sat cross-legged on the snow without hesitation.

"But... what exactly is Aina doing? Some forbidden magic experiment?"

"If you want to die, you can keep asking."

Mida was munching on an Anana family sausage, which was thick as a forearm. She held it with both hands like a hamster, her words slightly muffled as she chewed.

But she ate quickly—shlurp, shlurp—and in the blink of an eye, a large chunk had vanished.

Seems I guessed right, Wolund thought to himself.

If it couldn’t be disclosed... it must be something truly forbidden. Perhaps she was dealing with eldritch gods beyond this world. After all, given Aina’s power, Wolund couldn’t think of anything that would still be taboo for her.

...

The debauchery lasted three days.

Though Xia Lun didn’t want to use that word to describe himself—he was, after all, a former hero and still had some dignity to uphold—he couldn’t think of a more fitting term.

"You’re amazing... Xia Lun... I’m thoroughly satisfied." Aina bared everything before him without reservation. "As expected... of my hero."

"Is there... someone outside?" Xia Lun gently stroked Aina’s bat-like wings, the membranous flesh pulsing with sensitive nerves, drawing a soft, enticing moan from her.

Since yesterday, he had sensed a presence cautiously brushing against the barrier Aina had erected around the cabin.

If he could detect it, Aina surely knew as well, so Xia Lun didn’t dwell on it. His task was to keep Aina entertained.

"Ah, you mean Mida?" Aina yawned lightly. "She’s a child I adopted, living here with me... I already told her not to disturb us these days. If she’s looking for me, it must be something trivial, since her consciousness hasn’t breached the barrier."

Aina snapped her fingers, her wings folding away as an elegant black gown materialized over her body.

A finely crafted robe draped over Xia Lun as well, its inner lining etched with fire-attribute magic arrays that radiated a comfortable warmth.

Amid the howling snowstorm, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Aina responded.

A girl with long, water-blue hair pushed the door open, then carefully closed it behind her.

She appeared no older than twelve or thirteen, her doll-like face delicate with a hint of baby fat, though her expression was as stiff as porcelain.

Her dress shimmered in pearlescent blues and whites, adorned with frost crystals and snowflakes woven into its folds.

"Mother," the girl called softly.

"This child is the last of the Chaos Dragon Clan—Mida," Aina explained to Xia Lun.

"Hello, Mida." Xia Lun extended his hand.

Mida glanced at Aina, as if seeking permission.

"Call him Father."

"Father."

Instead of shaking his hand, Mida clasped Xia Lun’s arm and guided his palm to rest atop her head.

Her hair was cool to the touch, pleasantly soothing.

"Should I give her a gift or something?" Xia Lun blurted out.

Then he immediately felt awkward.

Right now, he was practically penniless—even the clothes he wore were Aina’s. A half-frozen beggar on the street would have more possessions than him.

"No need to be so formal with her." Aina chuckled but still conjured a sapphire-blue ice crystal and handed it to Mida. "This is your father’s gift."

Mida’s eyes instantly sparkled as she clutched the crystal and began nibbling on it like a biscuit, mumbling, "Thank you, Father..."

Knock, knock, knock—

Moments later, another knock came at the door.

"Come in," Aina answered again.

Wolund stepped inside.

"Mida, why did you lock me out? And for some reason, the snowstorm outside suddenly got worse..." Wolund grumbled.

Mida, happily gnawing on her ice crystal, glanced up at him. "I don’t know..."

Wolund ignored her, his attention entirely fixed on the other man in the room.

He... was alive?

He was actually alive!

A tidal wave of shock crashed through Wolund’s mind, leaving him frozen, unsure of what to say.

As Wolund studied Xia Lun, Xia Lun studied him in return.

Short, flaxen hair; a handsome face; appearing around thirty, though likely older.

"Aina... is he...?" Wolund turned to Aina in disbelief.

"Xia Lun, let me introduce you... This is Wolund," Aina said, ignoring the man and speaking to Xia Lun instead. "Over the years... he’s visited occasionally to keep me company."

Xia Lun’s gaze sharpened instantly.

What was this man’s relationship with Aina? He dared address her so casually?

Though Xia Lun didn’t believe Aina would betray him... a thousand years had passed, and his own time with her had been less than a century...

A bitter taste rose in his heart.

After everything Aina had sacrificed for him, even if something unexpected had happened, he had no right to blame her.

But...

Thinking it was one thing. Accepting it was another.

Wolund suddenly felt his body stiffen, as if an invisible blade hovered before his heart—inescapable.

His legs nearly buckled, but he steadied himself just in time to avoid collapsing.

"Xia Lun, what are you doing? Rein in your aura—you’ll scare the child." Aina’s eyes glinted with playful amusement, as if she’d guessed his thoughts, and she gently stroked the back of his hand.

"Child?" Xia Lun blinked.

"Yes," Aina counted on her fingers. "Wolund here is our eleventh-generation descendant."