Daughter and Mother

833 years before the Order Era.

178 years after the passing of the hero Xia Lun.

"Mo… mother?" Mida, just one month old, sucked on her fingers, dressed in a tiny blue dress as she sat on a woolen blanket.

Truly befitting the Chaos Dragon Clan—even at birth, she already possessed the ability to take human form.

"Mother," Aina corrected.

"Mo… mother?" Mida tilted her head, babbling with her mouth wide open.

Aina sighed, extending a slender finger to lightly tap Mida’s forehead. The little one tumbled backward like a snowball, landing on the blanket with all four limbs in the air.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of Aina’s lips.

Then, she pointed toward the door. "Out."

Mida understood, scrambling to her feet and toddling eagerly outside.

Aina turned her gaze to the corpse lying on the bed, her eyes softening with tenderness.

Though it was a corpse, Xia Lun’s body had been meticulously restored by her. To an ordinary observer, he merely appeared asleep—his complexion rosy, his skin healthy, even his body still faintly warm, bearing none of the hallmarks of death.

He was indeed only sleeping… though his slumber would last a very long time.

Aina leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Xia Lun’s cheek before carefully undressing him.

Soon, Xia Lun lay bare before her… though for now, Aina’s gaze held no trace of desire.

She retrieved a transparent vial filled with a crimson solution, shimmering like red amber, its luster mesmerizing.

This was the elixir Aina had refined from the flesh and blood of Mida’s parents—Milaia and Favos.

Though those two were worthless, their bloodline still had its uses.

Aina poured out the elixir, meticulously coating every inch of Xia Lun’s body.

It was almost like marinating a giant salted fish… or basting a suckling pig before roasting.

If Xia Lun knew she was thinking this, he’d probably sigh and call her name in exasperation.

"Aina—"

She could almost hear his tone—scolding yet fond—and a faint smile surfaced on her lips.

White smoke hissed from Xia Lun’s body as the elixir took effect, slowly seeping into his flesh and reshaping it.

His skin began to writhe, as though countless worms were trapped beneath, struggling—his muscles tearing and reforming, transforming into a higher state of being.

Had Xia Lun been conscious, the pain would have been unbearable… but now, he was nothing more than a lifeless corpse, devoid of awareness.

Aina had witnessed countless horrors—evil, grotesque, twisted existences—none of which could stir even a ripple in her unshakable heart. Yet now, even knowing Xia Lun felt nothing, seeing his body endure such torment, she couldn’t bear to watch.

She bent over him, pressing her forehead to his, her voice a whisper as she comforted him. "Xia Lun, it won’t hurt. It’ll be over soon."

Of course, Xia Lun gave no response.

Perhaps due to the elixir’s effect, the muscles in his face twitched slightly—his lips curling into the faintest semblance of a smile.

"Waaah—!"

A sudden cry rang from outside.

Aina’s expression darkened as she immediately stood and rushed toward the door.

Mida sat at the doorstep, arms outstretched toward Aina, tears streaming down her face as she wailed, "Mo… mother…!"

Aina’s face stiffened.

Mida’s body flickered like a dying flame, her existence wavering as though she might vanish at any moment.

"That wretched thing…"

Aina already knew what was happening.

This was the work of Fictitious Truth.

Such an inexplicable power could only come from forces beyond this world.

She remembered the words the entity had spat before fleeing.

Unable to defeat Aina, Fictitious Truth had redirected its hatred and vengeance toward the Chaos Dragon Clan.

"Chaos Dragon Clan… existence erasure."

The rules fabricated by Fictitious Truth would become reality—though this ability wasn’t without limits. First, the target must have had prior contact with Fictitious Truth. Second, the target’s strength must be inferior to its own.

Three years after Aina had driven it away, the malevolent deity had finally regained some of its power.

Mida’s body continued to fade, her cries growing more frantic.

Even in death, one might persist as an undead or through other means… but if existence itself was erased, there was no coming back.

Aina looked at Mida, then finally resolved herself.

She slit her own wrist, blood immediately welling forth—then pressed the wound to Mida’s lips. "Drink."

Obediently, Mida clutched Aina’s wrist and began sucking at the cut.

Fictitious Truth’s curse targeted the bloodline of the Chaos Dragon Clan. If Aina altered Mida’s blood, she would be spared.

The Chaos Dragon Clan’s bloodline was of an exceptionally high order. For anyone else, attempting to alter a dragon’s blood would only result in corruption.

But Aina was the Demon King—a being surpassing even the progenitor of vampires.

Even so, this would cost her a tremendous amount of her vampiric essence.

"Such… a poor trade."

Aina could feel her painstakingly accumulated power dissipating, while Mida’s form gradually stabilized.

At last, Mida’s existence solidified, and she slumped into a deep slumber.

Aina wiped the blood from Mida’s lips with a handkerchief, then carried her back inside, laying her beside Xia Lun.

Mida would live… but the rest of the Chaos Dragon Clan would not be so fortunate.

Aina took a single step forward—shattering space itself as she plunged into the chaotic void beyond.

...

Amidst the formless chaos, two points of light streaked across the darkness.

The crimson light ahead fled desperately, pursued relentlessly by the silver light behind it.

Countless hidden consciousnesses lurked in the abyss, their thoughts colliding in silent exchange.

"It’s Fictitious Truth."

"Who did it provoke? For something of its strength to be hunted down like this…"

"That power… is it the ‘Goddess’?"

"But she isn’t the ‘Goddess.’"

"Yet she, too, emerged from that world."

"The ‘Goddess’ was already troublesome enough. Now there are two such beings?"

"No, the ‘Goddess’ seems to have perished… and she isn’t yet as strong as the ‘Goddess’ was."

"But the ‘Goddess’ was never this unhinged or chaotic… her menace rivals the ‘Goddess’ all the same."

"Regardless, it’s best to stay far from that world. I’d rather not end up like Fictitious Truth."

"Agreed…"

Suddenly, a searing silver light erupted through the chaos, silencing all thought.

Then—the crimson light flickered… and dimmed to near nothingness.