Days passed in peaceful monotony, without ripples or surprises.

—Or perhaps there was one.

“What are you up to?” Vya pushed the door open and strolled in.

“Doing some research. You wouldn’t understand even if I explained, but… want to hear anyway?” Jetri’s eyes lifted from the microscope for a moment before returning to the lens.

“Sure.”

Vya settled beside him.

“I’ve always wondered—what truly triggers magic? Is it molecular combinations? Or some unseen element… not like those vague, crude terms like ‘fire element’?”

Vya blinked. She genuinely didn’t grasp it, but she nodded as if she did.

Jetri didn’t notice her reaction. He kept talking, “So I spent ages crafting this… observation tool.”

*Using magic to study science…*

Jetri almost chuckled at his own dark humor.

“Hmm. And what did you observe?” Vya might not be a scholar, but she wasn’t just a brute who knew only swordplay. Beneath the Valiant Hero’s title lay a princess. She knew how to keep the conversation flowing.

“The result is…” Jetri paused, peering through the lens. “Nothing.”

He stepped back from the magically crafted microscope and sighed. “So. What brings you here?”

“Can’t I visit without a reason?”

“You can.” Jetri had grown immune to Vya’s occasional moods. He nodded, then simply watched her.

Vya’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “Alright, fine—I do have something. Want to guess?”

“Guess…” Jetri frowned, stroking his stubbled chin. “You leveled up again?”

“No~pe~”

“Then… the last commission paid so well you won’t need to take jobs for a while?”

“Al~so~ no~”

“Hmm. I give up.” Jetri shook his head with a faint smile. He wasn’t really trying—just humoring her.

“The answer is…” Vya paused, then placed a hand gently on her stomach.

Jetri froze.

Disbelief flickered in his eyes.

“You’re going to be a father, Chad.”

Vya gazed tenderly at her belly as she spoke.

Jetri jolted to his feet, sending precious vials and flasks crashing to the floor.

Vya jumped. “What’s wrong?”

The fierce knight was gone. Only warmth and beauty remained. Years had etched lines and stubble onto Jetri’s face, yet Vya’s radiance seemed untouched by time.

She looked up at him, standing there flustered.

“How… how suddenly…” Jetri stammered. Joy and panic warred on his face. Hands that never trembled casting ninth-circle spells now shook as they brushed Vya’s.

Honestly, he felt no new life within her.

But something profound surged in his chest—weighty yet sweet.

“I’m… going to be a father…?”

Middle-aged Jetri looked utterly lost, like a child.

From that day on, Jetri never entered his lab again. His instruments gathered dust. He stayed glued to Vya’s side, swapping spellbooks for guides on prenatal care and newborns.

Vya hadn’t joked. As days passed, her belly swelled. The continent’s strongest Valiant Hero was now just an ordinary mother—her steps lost their grace, her movements grew cautious.

Jetri became meticulous. He didn’t know much, but he learned daily.

Any lingering resentment he might have harbored toward Vya vanished completely after this.

“Chad…” Vya sighed at her husband’s fussing. “You won’t let me lift a finger. I’ve gained nearly five pounds…”

“Bear with me, Vya. It’s our first time. Better safe than sorry—the book says—”

“Those books again! Are they always right?” Vya snapped.

“Of course not. But they’re helpful.” Jetri soothed her patiently. “You understand… I’m just… overly nervous.”

Her anger melted quickly. “Hmph. Fine, I’ll ‘bear with you’… but I still need to move, right?”

“Then let’s take a walk?” Jetri was utterly compliant—just as Vya had been before her pregnancy.

“Okay.”

They strolled along the shore, Jetri supporting Vya. He walked on her left, blocking the sea breeze until only its gentlest breath reached her.

The setting sun floated on the horizon. Waves caught the dying light, shimmering like scattered gold.

The sand beneath their feet was soft. The evening beach held warmth and comfort.

“Chad… when the baby comes, will they look more like you or me?”

“Like you. I hope they take after you.” Jetri watched his wife’s face, bathed in sunset glow.

*If they resemble me, we’re doomed.*

He thought it silently.

“Pfft.” Vya saw right through him. “Looking like you wouldn’t be so bad… saves you complaining they don’t resemble you at all.”

“No. Not resembling me at all would be perfect.” Jetri truly didn’t care.

“Boy or girl?”

“Either is wonderful.”

“But which do you prefer?”

“Honestly? A girl. But then I imagine some random boy whisking away my grown daughter someday… I’d be furious for half my life.”

“So you want a little sweetheart to keep you company forever?”

“Not exactly. I’d be happy if she found a good husband and lived happily. But girls… they might get hurt more easily.”

“And boys? Don’t you like boys?”

“Boys…” Jetri winced, remembering his own childhood mischief. “What if he suddenly declares he’s going on an adventure? Vanishes without a trace. And little boys can be… exhausting.”

Vya pressed her lips together, smiling.

Under the setting sun, the couple walked farther down the beach, leaving twin trails of footprints behind them.

The prints lengthened as the sun sank lower.

By the time they turned back, a new moon hung high in the night sky.

“Said boy or girl didn’t matter… but you clearly prefer girls~” Vya teased.

“Because girls take after their mothers.” Jetri kissed her hair softly.

Vya leaned against his shoulder.

“Chad… did you ever imagine this day?”

“Now that you mention it… no. I thought I’d never marry anyone.” Jetri pondered.

“Hah. More like you never planned to marry just *one* person.” Vya snorted.

Her head didn’t lift from his shoulder.

“Outrageous slander!” Jetri declared firmly.

Silence followed.

Then they both burst out laughing.

Jetri held Vya as she doubled over with mirth.

She wiped tears from her eyes.

“This is good.”

She whispered.

“You don’t blame me anymore.”

She murmured.

“I know, Chad… you still resented me.” Vya spoke into his chest, settling back against him. “Even if you never said it. Even if… you’re the perfect husband.”

“But I could feel it. That quiet hurt.”

The night sea breeze carried a chill.

Jetri didn’t reply. He simply draped his coat over her shoulders.

“Today… finally.”

Her voice held release. “You don’t blame me anymore.”

“I love you, Chad.”

He answered her.

“I love you too, Vya.”

Their silhouettes merged under the moonlight—on the shore, on the sand.

A soft glow seemed to emanate from them.

Their joined shadow stretched long across the beach.

The footprints coming and going mirrored each other.

Slowly fading into the distance.

“Hey… my neck’s kinda stiff from leaning like this…” A playful voice broke the quiet.

“…I’ll let it slide for now.” A resigned voice replied.

A startled yelp followed as the husband swept his wife into his arms.

Later, Jetri moved Vya to the capital of a kingdom on the Eastern Continent.

Only here, he believed, could she have a safe delivery.

Even after Vya insisted her constitution would prevent complications.

On the day of labor, though the continent’s medical standards were modest, Jetri sold high-circle scrolls he’d hastily crafted. With that wealth, he summoned every available senior priestess and female physician in the capital.

He transformed the room to mirror a spotless, dust-free surgical chamber from his memories.

Every healer—and himself—was purified with cleansing spells.

Then he sat rigidly in the corner, eyes locked on Vya’s bed.

She was surrounded by women. Jetri had already gathered them days earlier to plan every detail.

Though many hands worked, no conflicting voices arose.

Everything had been settled beforehand.

Yet Jetri still couldn’t relax.

Vya’s labor wasn’t the effortless thing she’d promised. Her cries of pain echoed in his ears, twisting his heart.

He stayed silent, fingers knotted tightly together.

He’d read countless books on childbirth.

But those same books showed him how advanced Eastern Continent’s birthing practices truly were—far beyond what he could improve with vague memories and theory alone.

His only role was to refuse any “save the child” choice if Vya’s mind clouded with pain.

He didn’t care about medical ethics. If forced, he’d use force.

Just as his thoughts spiraled into chaos, two sharp cries pierced the air—one after the other.

“Twins. Mother and babies are safe.”

The words washed over Jetri like a blessing.

He finally unclenched his fists.

Vya immediately tried to sit up despite her weakness, drawing gasps and scolding from the healers.

“What are you doing?!”

"Lady, please rest for now."

"You trying to get yourself killed?"

"Huh?"

Chaos reigned everywhere.

The babies' wails tangled with the women's chatter.

Jetri frowned with a wry, exasperated smile. "Just take a break."

His voice drowned in the crowd of physicians and priests.

Truth was, Jetri’s preparations weren’t useless. After a barrage of priestly blessings and prayers, Vya could stand right away.

"All wrinkly. Not cute..." Vya held one infant in each arm, peering down with curious disdain.

"Come on. Newborns all look like this. I think they’re adorable." Jetri cast a sixth-circle spell beneath each swaddling blanket.

"Hmph. Which one’ll look like you when grown? Which like me?" Though complaining, Vya’s emerald eyes stayed glued to their tiny, crumpled faces.

"Who knows?" Jetri shook his head. "You play with them. I’ll see off the priests and physicians."

"Okay," Vya replied.

As Jetri stood to leave, she suddenly lifted her head sharply. "No cheating on me, okay?"

Jetri rolled his eyes. "Do I seem that unreliable?"

"No. But I’m jealous. Isn’t it normal to say that?" Vya pouted.

"Alright, alright..." Jetri sighed, stepping out.

Their tiny two-person home now had two new members.

Instantly lively.

Even cramped.

Jetri hadn’t left the kingdom’s capital yet. Neither Vya—needing zuo yuezi—nor the frail newborns allowed immediate travel.

Vya was oddly curious.

"‘Zuo... yuezi’? What’s that?" Postpartum, she clung to Jetri like a girl, not a mother.

"Simply put..." Jetri stroked her long hair, searching for words. "I’ll be your servant for a year. Tell me what you crave or want to do. I’ll fulfill it—avoiding heavy exertion."

"What custom is this?" Vya blinked. "Never heard of it."

"My hometown’s." Jetri shrugged casually.

"Oh... your... previous life’s hometown?"

"Mm." Jetri nodded.

Since their barriers vanished, Jetri once mentioned his past life. Vya’s relentless questions made him spill everything.

"Wonderful~" Vya nuzzled his chest, grinning foolishly.

Jetri smiled indulgently, exasperated, about to speak—

A sharp wail pierced the room’s corner.

Then another joined instantly.

Both sighed in unison.

"We should hire maids..." Pain flashed on Vya’s face.

Honestly, childbirth hadn’t felt this torturous.

Jetri had suggested she sleep next door while he handled the babies. Vya refused.

"Guess we won’t sleep tonight either..." Jetri sighed.

"Ugh! So annoying!" Vya neared breaking point. "Chad..."

"Mm, not annoying—what is it?"

"It’s been ages since we... you know..."

"... Silence hung. "Want two more little troublemakers?" Jetri finally asked.

"Well... forget it..." Vya deflated, then clung to him again. "Ugh, I don’t care! Fix it!"

"Alright, alright..." Jetri held Vya—clinging like a sloth—with one arm while casting spells with the other.

Being the Great Sage made multi-tasking spellcasting effortless.

Jetri felt like parenting three children.

No real resentment—just mild exasperation.

He even felt proud soothing babies and wife together.

Who else but this Great Sage could manage it?

After endless effort, the babies slept. Jetri turned to soothe Vya—

Her peaceful face rested quietly against his shoulder.

Jetri smiled silently.