Mother

After Lucia’s re-arrival, the Evernight Territory finally entered a phase of steady growth.

With stability gradually returning, many refugees from the Ashen Territory flooded in.

Added to the original Evernight citizens being coerced back, the population swelled dramatically.

Fortunately, Vivian had prepared.

Before the Gold-Melting Caravan departed, she tasked them with spreading word of grain purchases and reconstruction essentials.

Thus, demon merchant caravans arrived in steady streams—paid, naturally, with freshly mined Evernight Crystals.

Yet Vivian knew crystals alone weren’t the answer—merely startup capital.

The territory needed self-sufficiency; mining could halt for countless reasons.

So, while occasionally taking Lucia to inspect the crystal vein core, Vivian relentlessly pushed Evernight City’s construction.

Unknowingly, the city’s population climbed back to tens of thousands.

Evernight City’s growing prosperity was plain for all villages to see—how Vivian’s rule brought thriving life.

Most crucially, joining meant becoming part of the Demon Lord’s domain—with free evening education after work!

This stirred even hesitant villages. Through word-of-mouth, serfs learned treatment in Evernight was truly 【equal】.

But Vivian wasn’t rushed. She knew full conviction in her policies needed time.

Months flew by. Reconstruction advanced astonishingly.

Newly tilled fields spread like emerald carpets, tender sprouts thriving.

Simple yet sturdy stone and wood houses replaced tents and shacks, forming neat districts.

At the city center, near the Demon Lord’s tent, a grander black-stone council hall took shape—symbolizing the territory’s solidifying rule.

Housing assignments needed arbitration.

Craftsmen and farmers required coordination.

Goods from Gold-Melting and other caravans needed inventory, storage, planned distribution.

New recruit training, patrol routes, internal regulations refinement…

Countless threads converged on Vivian’s makeshift desk—a massive stone slab.

…No choice. Only she and Lucia could handle internal affairs.

Though Aria and others studied hard to keep pace and ease her load, their limits were clear.

Vivian had no time to wait. Even delegated trial tasks and authority—every morning, more documents piled up.

“Demon Lord, the new Ashen refugee settlement plan. Please review.”

Aria set a heavy stack on the already buried corner, exhaustion plain.

“Leave it there.”

Vivian didn’t look up, pen racing over magical paper logging monthly grain use and projections, brows knotted.

“Tell Gangro weapon wear in recruit camp is too high. Find if training intensity or quality issue. If latter—trace source immediately! Also, summon east district foreman. Their timber request exceeds budget. I need explanation.”

“Yes, Demon Lord.”

Aria withdrew, nearly colliding with Luna entering with a rolled hide map.

“Demon Lord! New residential sewer blueprint ready—”

“Hold on, Luna.”

Vivian raised a hand. “Check Evernight Crystal stock first. Next caravan in three days—we need trade chips… Oh, have As reinforce patrols. Adventurer teams near border rising again. Stay alert for human moves.”

“Yes, Demon Lord.”

“Yes, Demon Lord.”

Vivian spoke rapidly. Luna answered promptly—though dark circles betrayed Vivian’s severe sleep debt.

In the tent’s other corner, the mood differed vastly.

Thick fur carpet bathed in sunlight reflected through mirrors, forming a warm glow spot.

Lucia lounged there, radiating serene light—wings carefully tucked.

She extended slender fingers, condensing harmless warm light motes like fireflies dancing before Luna sprawled on the floor.

“Eee-ya… hee hee…”

Luna in soft clothes, crystal eyes tracked the lights, murmuring excitedly, giggling.

She strained upward, limbs paddling, crawling clumsily yet energetically to catch the sparkles.

“Yes, just like that, little Luna. Come to mama.”

Lucia’s voice dripped tenderness, face pure satisfied joy.

She gently adjusted light paths, guiding her daughter’s crawl—sometimes humming ancient, melodic tunes, ethereal and enchanting.

Vivian finished a document, habitually glancing at her child—just in time to see Lucia blissfully playing while she drowned in paperwork.

Instantly, an indescribable “unfairness” surged.

“Tch…”

She smacked her lips, rubbing throbbing temples, muttering. “Why do I s*ave away while you lounge…”

Lucia heard, looking up with an innocent, brilliant—slightly smug—smile. “The capable do more. Look how happy Luna is.”

She tapped Luna’s nose, eliciting louder giggles.

“Vivian…”

She inhaled deeply. Calm.

This was her chosen ally and co-parent. No anger.

She buried herself in documents again, trying to ignore the heartwarming—yet “heartburning”—play nearby.

But workload and exhaustion scattered focus.

Time blurred. Just as she resolved a residential waterline dispute, reaching for the next border patrol rotation report—

“Ma… ma…”

A clear, milky yet precise syllable shattered the tent’s quiet.

Vivian’s pen froze. Incredulous, she looked up.

Carpet-side Lucia froze too, delightedly gazing at her daughter.

Little Luna had somehow sat up unaided, wobbling. She tilted her face—crystal eyes like Vivian’s sparkling—pink lips moving, repeating the heart-trembling syllable:

“Ma… ma!”

Vivian forgot pen and papers, staring blankly.

“…Crimson King!”

Next instant, Vivian yelped. In the blink Lucia and Luna took to blink—she vanished, teleporting beside Lucia, scooping Luna unceremoniously.

“Mama!”

“Hey! I’m here!”

Vivian hugged her daughter gleefully, utterly smitten.

Though Luna had tried “mama” sounds long ago, even after growing—she’d never managed clear pronunciation, nor grasped meaning.

Today, now—she spoke! Perfectly! Knowing what “mama” meant!

Since transmigrating, Vivian had never felt such joy.