"My child…"
Cecilia spoke softly.
"She must have suffered a great deal in the past."
She and Otto stood outside the simulation chamber, watching through the glass as Durandal completed her S-rank Valkyrie examination.
The white-haired woman smiled bitterly, her eyes brimming with tenderness and heartache.
"…"
"Well… Cecilia, that depends on which angle you're considering," the golden-haired man finally shrugged, neither affirming nor denying her words.
"If we look at the outcome, our Little Goose has done rather well."
"Born with unparalleled talent, attended by a devoted maid, wielding a super-weapon capable of cleaving continents—Durandal. After defeating a demon king from another world, she connected with a world bubble and now carries the power to influence the course of the world."
"I wouldn't say her path has been entirely smooth, but… it hasn't exactly been terrible either."
"…And if we consider the process?"
Cecilia asked quietly.
"…Are you certain you want to hear it?"
"Yes." She did not hesitate. "I want to understand my child more—not just her brilliance, but her pain."
"…Very well."
Otto exhaled softly before continuing.
"The fall from ten thousand meters needs no elaboration. After I saved her, I transferred her to an orphanage in Germany. A Honkai outbreak followed. Her most beloved mentor in life, Ragna, died."
"At eleven or twelve, Bianka joined Schicksal. In her first battle, every one of her comrades perished."
"At fourteen, she had already become an A-rank Valkyrie. In 2012, she participated in a mission to explore a world bubble. There, she met many companions."
"At least three of them died."
"In the end, Bianka Durandal Atagina absorbed that world bubble into herself. From that day onward, she bore the responsibility of an entire world."
"She has devoted her life to finding a way to graft that world bubble back onto the Imaginary Tree. She has devoted her life to seeking a path to save the world."
"That path is destined to be arduous. To defy the laws of the world is never easy."
Silence followed.
Cecilia pressed her lips together. Her gaze upon Durandal grew ever gentler—and more self-reproachful.
Standing side by side, they watched as Durandal gradually gained the upper hand in close combat against the simulated Honkai beast.
"Sometimes," Otto murmured, "I truly marvel at the resilience of life. Everyone finds their own way to struggle forward—to grow."
"Durandal… she has done everything in her power. What she's accomplished is a miracle even I find astonishing."
"Yes. Yes… my child has always been the very best."
Cecilia smiled, though tears shimmered in her eyes.
And always… the one who pains my heart the most.
Her gaze, soft as autumn water, followed as the Emperor-class Honkai beast was driven back step by step, until it finally fell.
In that moment, motherhood radiated from her so intensely that even Otto closed his eyes, savoring the warmth—as though embraced.
How long had it been since he had felt a mother's embrace?
Five hundred years?
A dozen?
Or… never at all?
Only when Durandal shouted and delivered the finishing blow did he slowly open his eyes.
He smiled gently.
His emerald gaze was as tranquil as ever—but beneath that calm surface, something darker flowed.
Like molten magma beneath the earth, waiting for its chance to erupt and consume all that was beautiful and kind.
"Would you like to see her?" Otto asked. "It happens to be the final battle of Little Goose's A-rank career. A perfect moment to offer her a mother's blessing."
Cecilia hesitated.
In the end, she shook her head.
"I haven't decided… how I should meet her."
She was still smiling, but the bitterness had returned.
"I am… not a qualified mother."
"I won't presume to judge you on such matters," Otto said, lightly patting her shoulder. "But let me tell you this—you need not deliberate over the method by which you love your child."
"Loving your child never requires premeditation."
"She knows the story of the Second Eruption by heart. You—Cecilia Schariac—are her hero."
"A hero… heroes hesitate too," Cecilia sighed. "I truly don't know how to act more like a mother."
After a moment, she added softly:
"The mother of a teenage girl."
Just a month ago, in her memory, her little Kiana had still been a child—waving an umbrella like Abyss Flower and tugging at the braids of someone who resembled a younger Archbishop.
How had she grown so much… so suddenly?
"If you ask me, it isn't such a complicated matter."
Otto considered briefly.
"For Little Goose, a mother's scent should be flowers, sea salt… and moonlight."
Cecilia tilted her head, surprised.
"You understand Durandal very well."
She had known that because both she and her daughter excelled, the Archbishop would pay special attention to Kiana. But she had not expected him to understand her so thoroughly—even answering such a delicate question so effortlessly.
His affectionate nickname "Little Goose," his detailed recounting of her daughter's past—it had already overwhelmed her.
And now, his precise grasp of her daughter's inner world filled Cecilia with gratitude bordering on awe.
She never questioned whether Otto might simply be saying something poetic.
The Archbishop had no reason to lie about something so trivial.
(And indeed, he wasn't. Durandal's own voice lines once mentioned exactly that.)
Luckily, I have you.
The thought surfaced again.
"It's not difficult," Otto added naturally, demonstrating his attentiveness in the smallest details.
"A child's secrets are treasures meant to be shown off. They'll lift them high with their own hands."
Cecilia's lashes curved as she savored the childish phrasing, her smile turning sweet.
"Lift them high… I wish I could lift my treasure high again."
It truly wasn't difficult.
But it required years of shared moments—or constant, careful attention.
At that instant, she fully believed that the Archbishop's care for Kiana stemmed not merely from her extraordinary talent—but from genuine concern.
He fulfilled the role of father to her daughter… almost perfectly.
All because of a dying plea she had once made.
If… if Kiana were truly his child…
Cecilia's imagination strayed—
She pictured Otto presenting the latest and most advanced Valkyrie battlesuit to Durandal, placing multiple Divine Keys within her equipment space, earnestly reminding her not to underestimate her enemies. Sending an avatar after her mission out of lingering worry.
And when all ended safely, the two of them exchanging a knowing smile before a remote monitor—like an old married couple—leaning in for a gentle kiss—
???
Cecilia jolted internally.
What was she thinking?!
A faint blush spread across her cheeks. She cast Otto a quick, guilty glance before looking away, pretending to focus on Durandal.
"Thank you, Archbishop."
Otto glanced at her, mildly puzzled by her sudden silence and abrupt gratitude.
Her reaction time was… somewhat delayed.
But seeing her flushed face—
Heh. Interesting.
"Mm. By the way, Cecilia," the golden-haired man said thoughtfully, "if you're unsure how to be a mother just yet… why not meet her first as a former S-rank Valkyrie?"
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