The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 166 - The Fortress Forgets, A Dad Demonstrates, And Their Snake... Sleeps?

Chapter 166: Chapter 166 - The Fortress Forgets, A Dad Demonstrates, And Their Snake... Sleeps?

A set of eyes remained closed as Qatrand focused on steadying her breathing. The familiar weight of her sword sat across her lap while she practiced using her spirit to direct essence.

Besides the panicked moment of ’necessity’ during the activation of the gravity sigils at the anomaly site, the young cultivator had not been as capable of extending it fully across her tendrils. She was sure at first that it was because her understanding of where they actually were at all times was vague... and that she had merely been lucky that so many rushed down at the same time she wanted her Gravity to anchor her to the earth.

But now, she could feel them weaving through the air of her room, gradually learning to move with more precision than ever before. Though a few too many trailed in the direction of the Goltbred estate.

’Here I am testing myself, after my wife tested me all evening.’

Her lips twitched, remembering how her small wife had tried bargaining for kisses repeatedly through the dinner date. The memory of her El’s increasingly dramatic pouts and pleading eyes made maintaining her current spiritual practice difficult. She breathed out in a sigh before rifling through her pockets.

The swordswoman’s fingertips curled with amusement on the small pieces of paper as she recalled how Elua had paused at a stall on their walk home. She then resorted to writing little notes with the materials she bought... and having the Skydancer deliver them while making pitiful chirping sounds.

/ Just one more? I’ll behave for the rest of the night! /

’Even if I believed that, there wasn’t much night left.’

/ What if I promise to wake you up tomorrow? A kiss now and a kiss good morning? /

’That just meant she would sneak into my room again...’

The Yecine did not have an actual issue with that, but learning that the cute girl had felt like she had been in a ’precarious’ state meant that it was another thing she needed to refuse. At least for one night.

/ Qat, your lips look so lonely without mine... and mine feel so helpless without yours. Look at them quivering! /

Each attempt had grown more outrageous and ’flirty’ - especially after Qatrand proved she could deny them with a straight face. The last in particular had strained that expression and she was sure that her spirit had been read *very* closely during each delivery.

An ’amused’ warmth still bloomed in her chest where the fragment of Elua’s spirit resided. Even now, it seemed to pulse with her wife’s lingering desire for physical affection... and spiritual. She recalled the moments she had entered the workshop home to ’confront’ the girl.

Holding her spirit’s desire to reach out and comfort the girl who seemed *lost* when she walked through the door like that had been one of the more difficult things she’d ever done. Then there was the sensation of intentionally holding the limbs of the heiress tightly with her spirit.

That... still lingered in her mind. The way the ancient cultivator had melted so gratefully into the ’restraint’ instead of fighting it. At first she had felt it was just relief at being reached out to at all.

’I should probably be more worried about how much she enjoyed that...’

Her spiritual tendrils forgot their practice patterns as that thought sank in. They began unconsciously gathering closer to the phantom shape of Elua’s body, twisting as if seeking to weigh down the brunette’s arms and legs again.

The swordswoman closed her eyes with a pinched brow.

"Focus."

The blonde felt that thinking too much in the silence of her room had just distracted her a little. She didn’t notice how hoarse and lower pitched her voice became as she reprimanded herself. Nor did she look too deeply into *her* choices back then... or her own tendency to grip and restrain the heiress’s head.

Though it wasn’t something she would be able to ignore forever. Not when the ancient cultivator was getting increasingly bold to find the lines with her flirting and teasing.

As she sought to center herself and allow thoughts of the day to pass through her head quickly, Qatrand’s eyes snapped open and the tip of the sword in her lap clanged a bit against the floor. Even with her hand quickly on its hilt, the teenager had stood up too abruptly,

"I forgot to tell her about her father."

All those hours spent asserting boundaries and offering comfort - and she’d completely forgotten to mention that Ondua planned to try and help with the nightmares! Her spiritual sense whipped anxiously through the air as she debated whether to go to Elua immediately. She didn’t think Ondua would do something wrong or be harmed by her wife.

’It’s already late...’

The fragment in her chest gave a strange pulse. Qatrand’s hand pressed against her heart as she turned toward her door. The grip on her blade tightened for a moment then eased.

’Maybe I should check on them anyway.’

---

The hallway lamps had been extinguished for the night, but the Goltbred patriarch in his own home needed no illumination to find his eldest daughter’s room. He moved with the practiced stealth of a father who had often checked on his child’s sleep. It had always ended with a peek to see his firstborn sleeping soundly.

Though tonight’s purpose was different.

His spirit stirred restlessly as he approached her door. The past week’s reports from the servants about her erratic patterns weighed on his mind. He hadn’t given it much thought until his son-in-law brought it up, thinking that the early rising and spending a lot of her time at her workshop was not that unusual.

He had often hoped she might come to him with her bigger problems, but his daughter had always been reluctant to show that kind of weakness. Despite recognizing her as rather independent, she was such a sweet child and had no issue requesting little things.

’She really was a very good child.’

He held a hand to the door without opening it, diving into his own memories to center himself before he dared to use his Astralism.

"Father, will you reach that book on the highest shelf for me? Mother taught me that climbing is unladylike..."

Her small, cloying voice echoed in his head. The brunette man remembered his wife chattering at him about the five year old almost falling off the furniture when she entered the room. He had nodded along at the time, feeling like Yatrel’s lecture might have been even more traumatizing.

"Mother, will you brush my hair while telling me about how you met father again?"

But their relationship had never suffered from the lectures - and there were few times that the kind and understanding little daughter had ever upset his wife for long. All of them seemed to be his spouse just extending her protectiveness... which he would admit was not as *wide* as his own, but was scarily deeper. He rubbed at his own throat with a complicated expression.

"Could the kitchen please prepare some extra snacks? I might be studying late..."

"Please, can someone bring more candles to my room? I... I’ve been reading too much and ran out..."

"Could someone kindly bring an extra cushion to my study spot when they have time? The window seat I like gets cold in winter..."

Each request had always been delivered with such perfect childish sweetness, her mint eyes always bright and hopeful. The staff would have accommodated the little girl even without the polite explanations, but she always included them. Even when it came to her parents.

"Father, may I have a little money for the market? There’s this merchant who always has the most interesting stories."

"Would you teach me how to fold paper flowers again, mother? I want to make and send some to Qat!"

The last memory was what shoved him out of his nostalgia. For years, he’d never thought much about it other than as his daughter’s exuberance for the partner that had been arranged by promise. The servants were also chattered to with that nickname brought up.

But his little girl did bring up the boy an *awful* lot in front of him. He narrowed his eyes, judging it now as *at least* twice as much as saying the name at anyone else.

Ultimately he shook his head at the subtle possibility. Whether she wanted him to know how much she liked the young boy back then because she was serious... or because she was trying to tease her father didn’t matter.

What worried him now was the fact that she knew *how* to ask for those little things but stalled when it was something this serious. It left him feeling more bitter and unreliable as a father!

’Well, that ends today. She has a problem I can fix and Qatrand even came to us for help. It’s about time I proved my worth as the local hero to my own daughter!’

The silence from within made him pause as he touched the handle. Even at this hour, the chances were high that he would hear the sounds of her recent leatherworking. Before then, paper rustling from reading or sounds of letters being scribbled.

Some small project would often keep her occupied. But now... he supposed it made sense if she was truly so tired!

His spiritual sense detected something odd about the air around the room when he entered. It felt... prepared. A slim amount of moonlight filtered through her window, barely illuminating a scene that made him hesitate.

The wedding gifts they’d stored away had been methodically arranged across one section of her floor. A little tree sat at the center, surrounded by concentric circles of other items – each positioned with precise care.

The wooden box containing those controversial surgical tools lay open near her bed, its contents turned inside out. Other boxes and wrappings were scattered about just short of ’messily’. It seemed as if she’d been frantically searching through them for something.

His brown eyes squinted at the controlled chaos of it all. He had seen her workshop and he had seen her room on usual days. This current view was beyond strange!

His daughter lay curled on her side, one hand clutching something that he couldn’t make out in the moonlight. He could only assume she had found what she sought and fell asleep.

’She looks peaceful enough...’

Ondua took another step into the room. The air grew thicker with that strange feeling. He could almost taste the lingering traces of spiritual energy trying to convince him that this was a bad idea.

’How could it be wrong? My first little one needs me to help!’

He gathered his spirit as he reached out his hand, ready to use his Astralism and ease right into her dreams. He would soothe whatever was troubling her.

With his power extended, the moonlight in the room seemed to shiver. Wide awake and wrapped hiding in illusions, Elua er Goltbred sighed.

’What does my silly father think he is up to?’

The ancient cultivator used a technique to force her consciousness into the proper state that his power needed to work. Though she wasn’t about to give up her mental control to anyone that wasn’t her Qat~