[Kiana, my deranged creation, I owe her so much, yet she no longer cares for my attempts at restitution. Theresa, my dear granddaughter, has risen from under my shadow. Now with her own students, friends, and loved ones, I believe there's no need for me to worry about her anymore. Durandal, the girl whose life was marred by my actions, fortunately, remained untainted by my darkness due to her unwavering integrity... Ha! My sins are countless, too numerous to calculate or repay. After pondering it all, perhaps it's best not to dwell on them.]
[But Amber, another of my creations, initially meant as a sacrificial tool—I taught her knowledge and skills, trained her to be my shadow, instilled in her the purpose to exist solely for me. Yet, ironically, I failed to teach her the abilities of freedom and choice. If I were gone, what would become of her? Ah, the agony of looking both ways, Zeke!]
"Clunk!"
The kitchen knife embedded itself deep into the cutting board, rendering it unusable upon removal.
Amber glanced at the knife, then stared momentarily at the finely minced meat before stirring it into the simmering porridge.
[Otto once mentioned something similar, leading me to believe this creature was left for you. Make your choice: care for her and continue relying on Otto or opt for complete freedom.]
On that day, Sir Zeke brought the child to Amber's residence in the city, delivering these words.
Amber couldn't quite describe her feelings at that moment; all she knew was that when she regained her composure, the child was already cradled in her arms, and Sir Zeke had long departed.
Suddenly, the sound of sucking on a pacifier echoed nearby.
"Pac-pac!"
"Just a little longer, please. The kitchen is smoky; I suggest waiting outside."
"Pac-pac?"
"Yes, as per your request, the congee has been simmered until very soft," Amber replied without looking up from stirring the meat porridge.
Beside her, the tiny infant clad in sunflower attire floated casually, reaching out with chubby hands to pat Amber's shoulder—like a contented little master.
The baby continued sucking its pacifier and leisurely drifted out of the kitchen.
This was Otto's gift to Amber—a miraculous infant who, at just three months old, could already think independently and harness Honkai Energy to perform extraordinary feats like levitation and telepathic communication.
When Amber reported this situation to Zeke, his response was dismissive:
"Considering it comes from the fake god Otto, no matter how extraordinary, it's entirely normal. Don't worry about it."
That was Zeke's reply at the time.
And so, Amber had little choice but to get accustomed to it.
After fifteen minutes or so, Amber brought the steaming porridge to the dining table, where the baby had obediently settled into her high chair.
"Baba!"
"Yes, dear."
Amber took a seat, gently cooling the porridge with each breath as she fed the child.
Everything seemed peaceful and serene.
But what exactly was Lord Bishop thinking? Is the infant before me considered Lady Bishop's daughter or her own reincarnation? What will their future hold?
There were many questions without answers, yet Amber gradually stopped dwelling on them. She only knew that since this child's arrival, the former sense of tranquility and reassurance had returned once more.
"I've decided—Hera Schariac, that's her name!"
"Um... May Amber ask why?"
"Well, obviously because I happened to land on this page! Is there a problem with it?" The three-year-old girl—or rather, little Hera—floated in midair, lazily flipping through the hovering history book as she spoke in a childlike, carefree tone.
Amber fell silent for a moment.
She couldn't quite believe those words.
This child was exceptionally precocious and intelligent: pondering the meaning of life at just three months old, marveling at the beauty of love by one year, and casually remarking at two years, "Welt is truly a charming idealist; wonder what expression he'll have when his dreams shatter."
Now, she was three years old.
Yet as Amber faced this three-year-old child she had nurtured for the past three years, she couldn't help but catch glimpses of Otto's former self.
"Alright, alright, hurry up and register my personal data. Without complete information, I can't even access the library or the Core Data Center—it's just too inconvenient!"
"Yes, as you wish, Lady Hera."
Amber nodded respectfully. Though she didn't show it outwardly, hearing this familiar title significantly lifted her mood internally.
While absorbed in entering the data, Amber failed to notice that Hera, floating nearby, was propping her chubby cheeks with her hands, watching her lazily yet cheerfully.
Why did Amber specifically choose the name Hera Schariac? Was it because Amber was familiar with it, intending to improve Hera's mood?
The answer to this question was not something little Hera planned to share with anyone.
The sky at eight is like drifting clouds bathed beneath the radiant sun.
A delicate model airplane whirls through the air.
As it passes by the edge of a pond, its flight path suddenly veers downward, plummeting towards the water.
"Whoosh!"
Luckily, a lovely hand appears just in time to catch the falling plane.
"That was close! Almost dropped right in there! Did you make this cute little airplane, sweetie?"
Today's sky and sun bear no difference from those five hundred years ago.
And neither has the silver-haired girl with her radiant smile changed much since then.
Kallen examines the model airplane in her hands, then turns toward the adorable little Hera. A complex mix of emotions flickers briefly across her blue eyes before transforming into a heartwarming tenderness.
Hera accepts the returned model from Kallen, her small face slightly creased.
"You..."
"I'm Kallen, Kallen Kaslana. Hmm... I'm Amber's friend, not some suspicious character. What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Hera Schariac."
"Hera... Ah, I see. What a lovely name. So, did you make this airplane model yourself?"
"I did."
"That's amazing! I rarely come across such fantastic models! You're definitely going to become an incredibly brilliant inventor when you grow up!"
"Thank you. Let me go call Amber inside; please wait here." With a polite and warm smile, Hera lifted her dress slightly and ran back into the house.
Kallen watched as the little girl disappeared indoors, then gazed at the hand she had just used to hold the plane model, gently clenching it with a somber expression that couldn't be concealed.
"Sigh..."
A gentle breeze stirred Kallen's nun attire, revealing glimpses of her slender legs amidst the wind, yet failing to mask her profound sorrow and melancholy.
The beautiful young woman with long cherry-pink hair appeared beside Kallen, holding a dark purple sword, her fuzzy long ears trembling slightly in the breeze.
"It seems you've raised some suspicions, Kallen."
"It's understandable. After waking up these past two years, I've been unsure how to face her."
"How do you feel now?" Yae Sakura gently took Kallen's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Kallen shook her head with a smile, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with her other hand.
"It's different; she's not Otto anymore. She isn't him—the clumsy yet dependable guy... I'll never see him again! Sakura, it's all my fault, entirely mine..."
Choking back sobs, Kallen leaned onto Yae Sakura's shoulder, her hidden face contorted by suppressed anguish and grief.
"Sigh..." Yae Sakura sighed, sharing feelings of regret and mourning for the man who had once terrified her but ultimately earned her deep admiration. Of course, given his unwavering resolve and pride, he likely wouldn't have cared much about Yae Sakura's sentiments anyway.
Amber warmly entertained these uninvited yet esteemed guests.
This was also her first close encounter with Kallen herself.
After seeing them off, Amber began tidying up the tea set when she suddenly turned to look at little Hera, who stood by the second-floor railing, disassembling a model airplane.
"Lady Hera, do you...not like those two guests?"
"Not at all! Especially Kallen Kaslana—judging by her appearance, she seems related to you, doesn't she? How could I dislike someone connected to Amber?" Hera replied cheerfully, chin resting on her hands as parts of the model scattered around her.
Though it appeared innocent, Amber knew this smile was part of her professional facade.
"Did she say or do something to upset you?"
"She complimented my model and even said I could become a great inventor someday, you know."
"That sounds positive, isn't it?"
"But this model is intentionally assembled with flawed structures. It's a 'failed creation' designed to test my knowledge and challenge myself."
Hera shook her head with an innocent smile.
Then Amber understood.
Lady Kallen had been insulted for her intellect!
Suddenly, Amber felt a lump in her throat, tears welling up in her eyes.
The bishop was truly gone, never to return.