The Demonic Race... they're getting more and more outrageous... the man thought. He lifted the silver cup on the table, sniffing the wine. It smelled rich and mellow, but only that. He longed to gulp it down—after all, as a hardened drunk, downing the continent's strongest Moluo wine was easy for him. Yet someone held him back...

"Dad! No sneaking drinks!" He recalled his daughter's slightly scornful gaze and broke into a cold sweat. That little girl...

Drinking ruins everything...

Truth was, she shouldn't even exist. She came about purely because he'd gotten drunk one night...

He was a loner, wanting no one near him. Until one day, a woman appeared, telling him he had a daughter...

Talk about an unexpected fatherhood. She was only three then, ragged and thin, her face sallow from malnutrition. She feared him...

And her mother? The woman who'd gotten him drunk. She'd suddenly announced the pregnancy, planning to dump the child on him while demanding hefty child support—for "raising this money pit" for three years.

He handed her two hundred old gold coins without hesitation and told her to take the kid and leave. She changed instantly, like a starving wolf spotting a lamb. Gone was her earlier arrogance; she scurried off, eager to avoid trouble over money. To her, two hundred sacred gold coins meant a lifetime of luxury. This child? Trash. She'd already scammed the cash—selling her wouldn't fetch much anyway. Might as well spare her as a "favor" from her "mother."

But the girl was only three...

She tried to flee the mansion, yet the child clung desperately to a hall pillar, sobbing and refusing to go—even when beaten and cursed.

He was a loner, after all. The noisy crying irritated him. Scowling, silver cup in hand, he strode downstairs. There she was, wailing uncontrollably.

Suddenly, his heart softened...

"Leave her. You can go..." He drove the woman away. She slunk off.

The child stopped crying instantly, her tear-filled eyes gazing up at him...

His heart softened again...

Her mother was pure scum...

He studied the girl closely now.

She was ugly. Surviving this long without proper meals was a miracle. Her face was waxen, her frame skeletal—nothing like a normal child. Her messy hair had been tidied, but she still looked like a freak... thin and hideous...

"Hmm..." the man mused...

First, a proper bath. She reeked terribly...

The mansion held no one but him, so he had to bathe her himself.

She didn't resist. Obediently, she let him wash her. Everything went smoothly—she followed his every word, almost intuitively...

"No name yet? Then... Lilith," he muttered to himself.

Time flew... Thirteen years passed in a blink. He sighed inwardly.

"Dad! Drinking again! You promised not to!" Lilith burst into the study, catching him hiding with a wine cup.

"Eh, listen—I wasn't!" the man tried to explain.

"I won't hear it! You're holding a cup—you wanted to drink!" Lilith shook her head like a rattle drum, her ink-black hair—just like his—whipping her cheeks. Her delicate brows furrowed in deep displeasure.

He'd been alone, meant to have no family. But one drink made him a father. From the moment he saw her, this beast-like man found something that softened him. He wanted to please her, give her the best of everything. He spent hours with her, granting every wish...

Because of her, servants filled the house... His solitude melted into noise...

Only his daughter could make him yield...

"Let me explain! I was just smelling it to satisfy the craving!" he pleaded anxiously.

"Hmph!" Lilith shot him a look. Those resentful eyes seemed to say, "Typical drunk," dripping with disdain...

Girls really do change. That once-ugly, scrawny child had blossomed... Was it his half-demon blood?...

Seeing her gaze, he sighed and drained the cup.

"I must leave for a while. You'll travel with Coachman Levi to another continent, alright?..." He looked at her gravely.

"Why leave..." She sensed something...

"Nothing. The Dark Emperor summoned me. It'll take three months to reach Midvalley. Perfect chance for you to explore the neighboring continent. Return after three months..." He stroked Lilith's black hair.

"Levi, take the young mistress away." He sounded impatient.

"Yes!" Levi replied.

"Miss, let's go." Levi turned to Lilith.

"Dad..."

"Just go..."

Man and daughter locked eyes... then he turned away, lost in thought.

Time to meet the Dark Emperor...

...

It wasn't the Dark Emperor waiting. It was the Demonic Race's imperial guard. Their leader read a decree to the half-demons. He understood now—this wasn't negotiation. It was slaughter...

"Kill!!" As their leader, he couldn't surrender. He'd foreseen this. Half-demons like them—human and demon hybrids—had no place in this world. Impure blood meant death...

They called themselves Singers, dreaming of singing freely under the sun one day...

Clad in heavy armor, he cut through enemies, leading his troops straight to the heart. He slew the enemy general...

Wave after wave of elite Demonic Race soldiers came—ten times his numbers...

Finally, he stood atop a mountain of corpses, Spear in hand, like a demon from hell... Arrows turned him into a porcupine. Alone, he fought day and night, until spearmen finished him...

Strength to move mountains, spirit to rule the world...

But fate turned cruel—what could he do?...

The Singers... vanished from Nolan Continent...

"I'm your 'mother' now. Call me Lya..." A silver-haired girl told the ink-haired Lilith.

A girl seemingly her age, speaking like this. Lilith felt strange.

"Be good. You'll stay with Uncle for now. Your father has business," said the middle-aged man. His shoulder-length silver hair radiated elegance and coldness...

"This is Lya. My daughter," Dracula said gently, stroking Lilith's hair.

"She'll care for you." Dracula's voice held reluctant pity.

Such a pitiful child... he thought. Her father was his friend—similar origins...

Levi had brought a letter, sealed with wax. Unopened until now.

Dracula broke the seal. It was a final note...

The last line read: "Lilith... I leave her to you..."

Lilith didn't understand why, but some instinct made her cry. She wept bitterly, tears streaming down—a sight that tugged at the heart.

"Shh, don't cry..." Lya led Lilith to a shabby garden, holding her and patting her back.

"Thank you, Lya..." Lilith wiped her tears, grateful.

"It's fine... It'll pass. Your dad just wants you to stay awhile. You'll see him again. Smile!" Lya comforted her.

"And—call me Mom!" Lya's gem-like crimson eyes smiled warmly at Lilith.

"But... but I think I'm a bit older than you..."

Lilith was puzzled. Why insist on "Mom"? Her father had called her mother a scumbag...

"I'm twenty-five! I just look young!" Lya declared.

Rarely leaving home, Lya's mental age wasn't much older than Lilith's. But she had to act mature—to secure her position!...

The two girls became best friends...

...

"Let's take a photo!" Dracula called to them months later. He'd grown to love Lilith like his own—she was so well-behaved.

"Mom, hurry!" Lilith shouted to Lya, who set aside her magic tome. Lya was a bookworm.

Dracula never understood the "Mom" thing. He just chuckled awkwardly when he heard it.

The three posed before Demon Castle. Dracula duplicated the scroll into three copies, handing one to each. Lilith took the smallest, tucking it into the gold Pocket Watch her father had given her as a keepsake.

...

"Awake?" Gray asked at Lilith's bedside.

"Mm..." Lilith sat up slowly.

"Bad dreams?..." Gray inquired.

"No..." Lilith avoided sharing her memories.

"You talked in your sleep..." Gray sighed.

"Mm..."

"Want to hear how you got hurt?..." Gray held up a small ball.

"A lead pellet."

"They fired it from something. It slipped through your armor's gap and struck you."