The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 241 - In The Maze Of Life, All Paths Lead To The Predetermined Center... Unless You Add More Hedges And Throw The Balance Off

Chapter 241: Chapter 241 - In The Maze Of Life, All Paths Lead To The Predetermined Center... Unless You Add More Hedges And Throw The Balance Off

Blue eyes looked up and saw a pair of slightly dull mint ones looking through her. She didn’t know what Elua was thinking about so deeply to press things to this point. But Talva had to admit it felt a little better to talk about it with the Goltbred heiress.

"I didn’t mean to get so... *involved* this way. When I started following Guild developments, it was just part of my duties. I hadn’t even heard of the marriage arrangement. But your work-"

"Was interesting enough to keep watching despite your self-promise. Yes, I understand."

Coincidences were not impossible, but that the way people reacted to noticing them said quite a lot. For instance, the young girl in the woman’s arms had practically been trained to be okay with people of her form. Just as the sigilist herself had been ’made’ to be compelling to someone like Talva.

The ancient cultivator could appreciate how circumstances had conspired to bring things full circle, granting everyone’s inner wishes.

"So what exactly is your intent now that you’ve admitted to knowing Qatrand is connected? Will you seek more or stay quiet for the rest of your life?"

"I..."

"Tautau?"

The small voice drew both their attention. The girl rose up from her rest and brown eyes studied the blonde’s face with surprising intensity for one so young. Small hands pat her forehead slowly as if trying to fix whatever was wrong that had her brow furrowed.

Yatrel hid a smile behind her teacup as she watched her youngest’s attempt at comfort. The mother had seen the same gesture used on her nursemaid more than once.

"She thinks you are upset, dear."

The Dame Goltbred called out before wiping the biscuit residue from her hands.

"Ah? No, not... well. I was just wondering if there was a right amount of time to wait."

"Mmm."

The reincarnator’s noncommittal sound came as she stepped closer to the pair. The toddler looked over at the sound of her footsteps, eyes still a little droopy from her tired state. Small hands pet her reddish-blonde hair with care.

"Well, no need to decide everything at once. Though I’m sure my sister would appreciate another visit from you after the Descent. She seems quite taken."

’I’m concerned how easily, though. Not that there is anything *wrong* with the person holding her. But I’m starting to worry about her getting carted away by the first tall strong person with the thought to kidnap her.’

While the eldest was thinking of how best to educate her little ’river bend’, Talva’s spirit burst into clear conflict at the suggestion. Her arms adjusted unconsciously as the child settled once more heavily against her shoulder.

"I..."

The soldier’s ’unwilling’ state made the heiress raise an eyebrow. Before she could respond to convince her further, words came out in a rush.

"Do I really have to wait that long? Our camp at the competition here isn’t that far. I could come back..."

She trailed off with eyes widened by her own voiced eagerness. A soft snore from the toddler drew her gaze down. Talva’s worried expression melted at the peaceful face pressed against her uniform collar.

"You’re of course welcome to visit her before we leave."

The ’sweet’ and ’warm’ voice hid all of the pleasure of a well executed scheme. The ancient cultivator had accomplished two things at once, as she always sought to do. A connection that would benefit both her precious gem and her young sibling had been so easily born.

’And all I had to do was place them in the same location.’

"I would love that. If that’s truly alright..."

"More than alright. After all, *family* should spend time together when they can."

The deliberate emphasis by Yatrel on her approach hit the army cultivator - but the weight of the sleeping child in her arms somehow made the acknowledgment feel less daunting than before.

’Though I’m... really not *their* family, right? Does that mean I shouldn’t take advantage of-’

The lump forming in her throat eased as Onya repositioned and snuggled closer. The child’s almost effortless acceptance had been an unexpected contrast to the fear she usually encountered. Memories of children in her hometown running away from her flashed through her head.

Some were crying at only the *sight* of her imposing figure... and she had long ago accepted that despite her feminine voice and features, it would always be a source of intimidation. But now, with this tiny girl in her arms, she felt the warmth blooming in her chest she always knew would be there.

A sense of belonging that she had never experienced before. Such trust and affection seemed to melt away years of self-doubt and loneliness. A little of that blockage leaked from the corner of her eyes.

"I never thought... I never dared to hope that such a cute child would treat me like this."

Talva whispered with thick emotion and blinked out the wet feeling.

"Like I’m not something to be scared of."

The duelist watching the person holding her daughter understood just a bit. Especially in the way the soldier’s imposing frame seemed to soften, cradling her youngest as if she were made of glass. Talva cradled her Onya with such reverence and she saw echoes of her own path from feared outsider to mother.

From orphan to wife, then to the matriarch of an affluent house filled with people who had every right to fear her. Yatrel remembered how the servants they hired had first tiptoed around her with wariness at her reputation for violence. She had built her ’family’ slowly, by earning trust and proving herself worthy of the name she married into.

Of course, nothing had transformed her world quite like holding her firstborn. Elua’s tiny fingers had gripped her without hesitation when the woman poked at her daughter’s face.

’If anything she seemed a little annoyed, haha. How could a newborn pull off throwing intent?’

It had only lasted a second before those mint eyes met hers with complete trust... and the mother quietly attributed it to her own worries. No trace of the fear that still lingered in the gazes of outsiders had ever grown in the girl. Despite those people who whispered about the women who ’disappeared’ after showing too much interest in her Ondua.

It wasn’t her fault they fled the region after the duels!

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

Qatrand stood at the edge of the exhibition field and observed the ongoing matches. She noted the techniques on display, analyzing how they might complement or challenge her own style. The fragment in her chest constantly pulsed with ’focus’ and ’calculation’ - her El was clearly occupied with her own affairs.

A now familiar presence approached from behind and spoke.

"Your performance yesterday was commendable."

The voice of Corde hez Iralev has some generic approval and a level of curiosity attached to it as she came to stand beside the Yecine heir. The woman had not really had much of a conversation without the Goltbred heiress being present. Qatrand inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, though her spirit showed she still held some guard against the person who upset her wife.

"Thank you. I learned a great deal from our match."

"As did I. Your application of a Gravity Element was quite effective. It seemed well practiced and thought out."

The Frozen Duskblade’s gaze held a probing edge to it. As if seeking to unravel the secrets behind the rapid progress of the cultivator. It was clearly more than just the Yecine’s rigid training, or else the family would have produced many more exceptional cultivators.

"I’ve had the benefit of diverse influences in my training."

The swordswoman met her dark eyes steadily. She was unwilling to reveal too much, but denying that El gave her advice was too much to ask. Qat could deal with not giving details about when and what... yet she could not deny that the cute girl was a giant help to someone like Corde.

Someone already so sure that Elua had been involved in things.

"So it would seem. One in particular."

The woman’s tone declared it as an open secret while refraining from dropping the name. That way of speaking somehow reminded her of the elders she dealt with, even though they were usually more direct about the Goltbred heiress *lately*. After reaching into her sleeve, the older cultivator produced a sealed letter and held it out to Qatrand.

"My formal offer to guide your martial training after the Descent. I’ll leave it to you to hand to your father. I truly believe you have the potential to become a formidable warrior."

Though she felt a flicker of hesitation in her heart, the raven-haired ’young man’ accepted it from her.

’She was right. The opportunity to learn from such a renowned figure should not be dismissed too lightly.’

"I will deliver it and give it due consideration."

Her diplomatic response seemed to satisfy Corde, who nodded in ’understanding’. She was sure that this person would bring the letter to Elua first. Which is why she prepared another to have someone deliver to the camp tomorrow morning.

’Meddling this way might not make me her friend, but if her family sees that the mental claws of that heiress are in their heir...’

Around them, whispers began to rise from those cultivators gathered close. They took note of the second interaction between the two. Qatrand felt the speculative gazes upon her - the growing buzz of ’excitement’ and ’curiosity’. She knew her association with Corde would only fuel the rumors and expectations surrounding her future.

’Another reason my mint-drop must want me to accept.’

For a moment, she began to think about the value of *refusing* and being known as the person that rejected such training. Before the thought ran its full course and decided that being stronger was better than being more famous, the light sword user spoke again.

"I’ll take my leave, before the crowd pins us in. I look forward to further discussions."

Corde’s parting words held a note of honest anticipation as she turned to leave. Beyond the desire to make sure the warrior was not being used and manipulated, she was actually a little excited about the idea of a disciple that could learn so quickly.

Pigeon blues watched her go, the official letter as heavy as a blade in her hand.