The moment Irwen raised her hand, the air shifted, thick with an unseen force. Magic rushed like a tide, crackling, the pressure making my breath hitch before a translucent golden barrier surged into existence around us. The world outside dimmed, the sounds muffling into nothing, as though we had been plucked from time itself.

  The golden shield was opaque, shimmering like molten sunlight, sealing us in a space only for us. And before I could question it, she moved. Blindingly fast. A blur of gold and motion, and then… Arms. Around me. Strong. Warm. Pulling me toward her.

  …Hugging me.

  The world tilted, my entire body locking up in sheer, stupefied shock.

  What. Wait? What?

  Her voice, soft and full of something real, pressed into my ear. “What you have achieved is amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

  I froze, because it felt too good. The warmth of her arms, the steady rise and fall of her breath, the sheer certainty in her words.

  And yet… “I’m… You… What?” The words fumbled out, barely coherent. Because what the hell was I supposed to say? This was Irwen. I swallowed hard. “...Are you really my mom?”

  She leaned back slightly, just enough for me to see her face, and was smiling. Not a smirk, not a calculating curve of the lips. It was a real, genuine, soft, motherly smile. “Do you know where children come from?” she asked, her tone perfectly serious.

  I blinked. I scrambled for words, my brain short-circuiting again. “Uhm…” Not going to lie, that threw me off so hard I almost tripped over my own existence. “I mean… When two people like each other—”

  I started, completely unsure where I was going with this, but she laughed. Laughed. And before I could dig my own grave any deeper, she wrapped her arms around me again, squeezing slightly, her head shaking in quiet amusement.

  “Charlie,” she said, a soft chuckle in her voice as she glanced up at me again, eyes bright with mirth. “I have spoken with people from your world, so…” She tilted her head slightly, still studying me with that affectionate gaze. “I only wanted to know if you knew the differences.”

  What the actual hell was this conversation?

  Where were the questions of my strength? Of our numbers? Strategy? A declaration of war? I expected a thousand things from this meeting. Accusations. Ultimatums. A deadly chess game of politics and power.

  Not… this quiet, impossible conversation about my existence. Her words settled over me like a dense fog, thick and disorienting, forcing me to rethink every assumption I had about this world. The test servers. The hollowed-out cities abandoned the moment actual players left.

  The NPCs who were never really born, just copies—imperfect reflections of the true Rimelion.

  I had always assumed it was because of server limitations, like the world had been a half-finished draft, struggling under faulty programming. Later in the testing, when there were less of us to actually test, it was a chaos when they copied the Rimelion.

  But how new people were born? No idea.

  I knew that there were actual young adults created with memories. That was a known fact. I even watched a Katherine reaction video on that. I swallowed and forced out a hesitant, “Children are born… at the age where they need to be?”

  Irwen raised an eyebrow, her expression approving, yet unsurprised. “That’s true.” She paused, then exhaled, her gaze flickering downward. “I hadn’t expected you to know that. But not how you were born.”

  Her shoulders stiffened, a flicker of something almost like regret passing through her face. Then, just slightly, she stepped back, as if ashamed of what she was about to say. “People always have to start the same way as in your world,” she said carefully. “That’s not something that can change. If species are incompatible, it simply can’t be done.”

  Her eyes darkened, an almost disappointed sadness settling into her eyes, though I couldn’t tell if it was for herself or other reason. “But a mother can choose the age of her child,” she continued, voice steady but mixed with something deeper. “If she chooses nothing, it follows the same course as your world. But… if she needs them to work the fields, or a noble wants a grown heir, the intervals are every four years, much like the system’s restrictions. You are twenty. At least, in this world.”

  I nodded slowly, and suddenly, awareness crashed down on me.

  My body. I was standing like an idiot, stiff and out of place, shifting my feet uncertainly, trying to casually place my hands on my hips. But what was casual? She wasn’t just a mythic-tier entity standing between me and my future. She was… My mother. I swallowed. “I wasn’t aware.”

  Her eyes softened, not in pity, but in understanding. “You are special,” she said, carefully. Then, after a moment, she corrected herself. “And I don’t mean it the way every child is special. The Prime God asked me if I would like another daughter after they executed mine.”

  Her face shifted, a moment of raw vulnerability flashing through her face before she looked away, almost embarrassed. “I failed your older sister.”

  Silence.

  But before I could form a response, she continued. “But I digress.” Her voice steadied, smoothing over the edges of emotions. “The Prime God owed a favor to someone—I do not know how that was even possible—but they asked for you to be real.”

  I felt my breath hitch. “Real?”

  I took a half-step back, my shoulders pressing against the golden barrier, expecting it to shock me—to push back, to reject me. It didn’t. It was solid, unmoving, like a wall that had been here for a long time. “What do you mean?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Irwen met my gaze, her expression unreadable, yet not unkind. “Apparently, the… dream world where you were wasn’t real.” A chill ran through me. Simulation? I was living in a simulation? “And he needed a soul to give you.”

  I could only stare. “When a child is born, a soul is also born from both parents,” she said, voice gentle but determined. “And… no matter how old you are, with half of your soul coming from me—” She smiled, and before I could react, before I could even think, she wrapped her arms around me again. “…You are my daughter.”

  The words were so simple. “And I love you.”

  All I could do was hide in the hug as I pressed my face against her shoulder. I had never met my biological parents, but as a kid, I had dreamed of the moment we’d finally meet, that one impossible day where everything would make sense.

  That day never came.

  But I loved all my foster parents. Yet… This feeling? This undeniable connection, the way something inside me clicked into place like it had always been waiting for this moment? I squeezed my arms tighter around her, shutting my eyes as I whispered, “thank you.”

  She held me for a moment longer, her breath steady and sure, before finally pulling back. Her expression was fond, yet tinged with something I couldn’t quite name, something between regret and pride. “I apologize for how I acted back in the dungeon.” Her voice was lighter. “Since then, I’ve learned so much. And thanks to you, I don’t owe my soul to demons. You saved me.”

  I blinked. “I… did?” It didn’t sound right, what she wanted… “You wanted to sell your soul! That was the price! That’s why you had to vanish after the rebellion, right?”

  Irwen nodded. “Yes. That was my intention.” Her expression darkened, the sharp lines of her face momentarily full of old burdens. “But you knew the demon’s name.” Her eyes locked onto mine, and something ancient flickered in them. “That changed everything.”

  I stared, struggling to piece together what she meant. “And as much as I’d love to talk more, we need to hurry,” she continued, her voice smoothly shifting into something more business-like, more commanding. I could almost see it, the transition from mother to queen, from Irwen to the legend standing before me. “There is an army all around us, after all.”

  My stomach dropped. I had forgotten, for a moment, just a single, fragile moment, this wasn’t a game. This was real. But… It wasn’t, not really. Or was it? Reality was still here. My mind flashed to the players, the soldiers, all of them on edge, waiting.

  Some idiot might get antsy, might think they needed to act first. “Why did you come here with such a token army?” I asked, forcing my voice level.

  She laughed. “Would you believe me if I said it was to see you?”

  I glared at her, but then grinned instantly. “I would. Because I would do it too.”

  The shift was instant. Her breath hitched, and for the first time, tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away, but the emotion didn’t leave her face. “You are an amazing daughter.” Her voice was softer now, genuine, stripped of all the grandeur, the power, the myth.

  Then, just as quickly, she recomposed herself and straightened. “Another reason was to see if you are strong enough.” Her gaze swept over me, and I could feel the weight of her assessment, the calculating way she measured everything: my stance, my expression, my very presence.

  Then, just as quickly, her expression softened. “I’ll go back to my camp so you can have fun with this fodder.”

  I blinked. Fodder. My mother was casually dropping off an entire demon battalion like she was gifting me a fruit basket. I wasn’t sure about their level, but it could be a walk in the park, or a fierce battle. They were fodder, but… That was compared to an imperial army in a few years. Now?

  Cool. Completely normal. She smirked, watching my reaction. “It’ll serve as a message to the demons, so don’t worry about killing them.”

  I forced out a dry laugh, crossing my arms. “Oh, sure. Because that sounds so easy.”

  “It will be.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, utterly confident, as if she was handing me the answer to a simple arithmetic problem. Then, she sighed. “I would love to give a declaration of war to your hands right now, but I can’t.”

  Something in her tone shifted, a rare note of frustration, as though something was keeping her from acting further. I narrowed my eyes. “About that—”

  “Sorry,” she cut me off, her tone firm. The golden shield hummed, the magic vibrating with a shift in energy. “But we’ve really run out of time. Goodbye,” she gave one last look, and the moment the shield was gone, so was she.

  I barely had time to process it before the weight of reality slammed back down. “To arms!” I yelled. “Defend yourselves!”

  I spun, scanning the battlefield. The guild leaders had moved down behind the wall, clustering into their groups with their members and each having light for the darkness. At least a hundred players were gathered, not on the fortifications where they should be, but below, on the ground. My stomach dropped.

  What the hell were they doing down here? “Why are you—”

  I didn’t get to finish. Mother was faster. “Attack!” Her voice boomed effortlessly, overpowering any other sound. A wave of magic rippled across the battlefield, and the demon army stirred. Hundreds of armored figures tensed, a synchronized ripple of motion spreading through their ranks. The clank of weapons being unsheathed echoed in the still air.

  Some gripped spears, their tips glowing with runes. Others brandished axes, their curved edges glinting with a dark, unnatural sheen. A few carried exotic weapons, blades crackling with violet lightning, staffs that pulsed with deep emerald energy.

  And then they moved as one. The sound of their charge was a rolling wave of boots striking the earth, metal scraping against metal, armor rattling in deadly harmony.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, my mind already racing. I needed to command. I needed to get them organized. I opened my mouth to order the players, but—

  Too late.

  Some had already panicked, scattering in chaos. Others, too eager, too reckless, had thrown themselves into the fray with zero coordination. A torrent of spells erupted toward the enemy ranks. Fireballs streaked through the air, lightning crackled and danced, arrows whistled. The battlefield lit up in bursts of chaotic color, magic clashing against steel.

  “Too strong! Formation Six!” Luminaria’s voice rang clear and commanding as she charged forward, her robe fluttering wildly around her. I turned in time to see her raise a hand, energy coalescing between her fingers, crackling into a sphere of condensed lightning.

  Good. At least some people knew what they were doing. But I couldn’t focus on them. I had my own people to organize. I twisted back toward my group, eyes locking onto each of them in quick succession. “Fall into formation.”

  I quickly explained where they should be, but before I even finished, Alma ignored my order and backed toward me, eyeing the nearest demon with wary glance. Her grip on her sword was tight, controlled, but I could see the tension in her stance.

  Techi, on the other hand, listened to me and was already stepping forward without hesitation, his shield angled low, bracing to counter the first incoming strike. Lunaris and Katherine flanked him, waiting for the opening to strike.

  “Let’s give her a show!”