He Can Crawl Now!

After being away for nearly ten days, Vivian finally returned to her own domain—her Evernight City.

Though she had only been gone for a little over a week, the changes were striking.

Several new fields had already been opened for cultivation, and an entire new residential district had risen on the outskirts.

The slaves—no, the “labor resources”—she had acquired from the Gilded Caravan had settled into life here, a city still standing amidst its own rebirth.

As for the Gilded Caravan itself, their mission was complete.

They had fulfilled their contract, concluded their trade, and set off once again—back toward the Imperial Capital, to prepare the next group of personnel, materials, and technical aid Vivian’s territory would require.

She could have continued developing Evernight on her own.

But who would ever refuse reinforcements, especially ones so desperately needed?

Vivian inhaled softly.

Without alerting anyone, she slipped quietly through the lively streets, her cloak blending into the deepening dusk, heading straight for the massive central tent that still served as her temporary residence.

The closer she drew, the stronger her yearning became—the ache of missing her daughter, the ache of wanting to hold her again.

“Ten days… how’s my little Luna doing? Has she been crying? Did she miss me? Did Aria and Luna take good care of her?”

Countless worries fluttered through Vivian’s mind.

Soon, she reached the entrance of the tent, lifted the flap, and stepped inside.

The furnishings were as simple yet orderly as she remembered.

But the first thing that met Vivian’s eyes was not Aria, nor Luna—

It was a small, round bundle of life, dressed in soft cotton clothes, sculpted like a cherub from pink jade.

The little one turned her head—then came crawling toward her with a delighted squeal.

“Yah! Eee-ya!”

Her tiny voice rang out in bright, joyful babbling, her lavender eyes—the same shade as Vivian’s own—sparkling as though they caught every bit of light in the world.

The sounds spilling from her mouth were clumsy, excited, but their meaning was clear.

Mama.

Mama’s home.

It was Luna.

And she could crawl now—fast and nimble!

For a moment, Vivian simply stood frozen.

Then she found her daughter pressed against her legs, soft little arms clutching tight while peals of giggles bubbled upward like music.

All the exhaustion, strain, and pain that had accumulated from the assassination mission melted away—obliterated in an instant by a flood of warmth so powerful it almost hurt.

She dropped to her knees immediately, gathering the child into her arms.

The tiny body was warm, fragrant, alive.

Before she had left, Luna had already been a lively baby—

But Vivian had not expected that in just ten days, her daughter would be crawling this well.

“Luna… my sweet little Luna… Mama’s home…”

Her voice trembled faintly as she pressed her face into her daughter’s neck, breathing in her soft, milky scent.

“Demon Lord! You’ve returned!”

Startled by the commotion, Aria and Luna burst from the inner tent.

They froze at the sight—Luna crawling, Vivian kneeling—and a mix of shock and relief crossed their faces.

When they realized their master was alive and whole, holding her baby with a radiant smile, both women visibly relaxed.

“Welcome home, my lady!” Aria hurried forward, bowing quickly, her eyes flickering with concern.

“Was your mission successful? Were you hurt?”

“Demon Lord!” Luna cried, fluttering beside her with a cheerful bounce of her tail.

“Little Luna’s been such a good girl! Though she really missed you—she kept crawling to the door to look out!”

Vivian stood slowly, still holding her daughter who refused to let go, and gave her loyal servants a gentle smile.

“I’m home. Everything went… mostly as planned.”

Then she glanced down at Luna, running a finger along her tiny nose.

Her daughter burbled with laughter again.

“Thank you both,” Vivian said softly.

“For taking such good care of her.”

“It’s our duty, my lady.”

Aria smiled warmly, her gaze steady but keen.

Despite Vivian’s efforts to appear composed, fatigue lingered faintly in her posture.

“You should eat and rest, please. I’ll prepare something right away.”

“I’ll bring Luna’s milkcake! She didn’t finish it earlier!” Luna chirped, scampering off.

Moments later, a simple meal and hot broth were brought in.

Vivian sat at the table, Luna content in her lap, eating in small bites while listening to Aria and Luna chatter about city matters in turns.

Most of it was daily updates—progress on new farmlands, housing assignments, inventory counts, workshop construction, and Luna’s tiny adventures.

Listening to the rhythm of their words, the hum of order and life, Vivian felt a peace she hadn’t known in ages.

This—this was what she fought for.

The tent buzzed with warm, domestic ease.

Then the flap rustled once more.

A tall figure stepped inside—Lucia.

Her face was pale, her aura weary.

At the sight of Vivian, a flicker of surprise flashed in her frost-blue eyes before she pressed her hand to her chest and bowed.

“My lady, you’ve returned.”

“Yes… just now.”

Vivian nodded lightly, offering a small smile.

“You’ve worked hard, Lucia. You look worn out.”

Vivian’s tone was gentle, signaling she needn’t bow further.

Even so, she couldn’t ignore the faint darkness beneath the woman’s eyes—the fatigue, the tension… and perhaps a trace of quiet resentment.

“Merely fulfilling my duty,” Lucia replied crisply, the edge in her voice nearly imperceptible, though her mood carried a chill.

She reached to her belt and withdrew a recording slate, her demeanor snapping into professionalism.

“I originally came to coordinate reports with Lady Aria, but since you’ve returned, I’ll brief you directly, my lady.”

“The city of Evernight has remained stable during your absence. No large-scale unrest or external breaches have occurred.”

Her crisp, steady voice filled the room—businesslike, a stark contrast to the homely tone from before.

“Current city defense and patrol systems remain effective. Fifteen minor disputes resolved, three lower-beast incursions repelled, zero casualties.”

“Population and housing: all new arrivals have been registered and temporarily housed. Two new reclamation teams formed. Approximately fifty acres of farmland added, forty communal houses constructed. Housing strain eased for now.”

“Resources and production: food reserves within expectations. The first harvest from the new growth fields is expected in twenty days. Timber and stone supply steady. Preliminary crystal mine survey complete—estimated reserves high. Additional manpower and specialized

equipment required for full-scale extraction.”

“Military readiness: new recruit training cycle one complete. Roughly one hundred soldiers combat-ready, now serving in mobile patrol divisions. Equipment reserves stable—remaining stock from Castle Evernight’s underground armory sufficient, supplemented by weapons

provided by the Gilded Caravan. Personnel shortages remain severe.”

Lucia spoke with precise clarity, her words brisk, measured, meticulous—her exhaustion showing only in her rasping tone.

Vivian listened quietly.

And with each report, her approval deepened.

Not only had Evernight avoided stagnation in her absence—it had advanced.

Under strained conditions, no less.

And that, Vivian knew without question, was thanks in large part to Lucia.