Selene's POV
I hummed softly, letting the lullaby flow like a gentle breeze as I rocked my son in my arms. Ah, my precious boy looked so unbearably cute that my heart nearly melted.
But… cuteness is a dangerous thing.
A grim thought crossed my mind—one day, this little angel would grow up, and with that face of his, I could already picture the endless line of maidens (and their scheming families) vying for his hand. Marriage proposals, political ploys, broken hearts… I could almost see it all playing out. Haa~ my poor son, how troublesome his charm will be.
My musings faded when I noticed his steady breathing—he had fallen asleep. A tender smile curled on my lips. I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and carefully laid him back in the cradle.
It was then I glanced down at myself. My nightdress… ruined. My dear son's handiwork, no doubt.
"Ara~ really now. I can't have stains on my favorite nightdress, can I?" I muttered with a soft chuckle. Until Aria brought me something fresh, I could at least wash it.
With that thought, I slipped into the washroom and began cleaning the fabric, humming faintly to myself. The mundane rhythm of rinsing and scrubbing lulled my mind—until the faint sound of bickering reached my ears.
I stilled.
At this hour? No one should be here. Aria wouldn't dare bring anyone without permission. My brows furrowed as unease coiled in my chest. Wringing the fabric, I stepped out of the washroom quietly.
And froze.
There—my son still lay in the cradle, innocent and unaware. But surrounding him were figures clad in black, masks obscuring half their faces, steel glinting in their hands. Assassins.
Rage surged, drowning out reason. My gaze locked onto the one who dared step closer to the cradle, knife raised as if to touch my baby.
That was all it took.
My sanity snapped like brittle glass, and before I even realized it, power burst from me in a wave—uncontrollable, raw, and deadly.
————————————•
The moment my mother revealed her presence, terror rippled across the assassins' faces. Their eyes widened, their bodies stiffened. I couldn't help it—my lips curled into a grin.
The assassin captain noticed. His gaze flickered between me and my mother, a storm of fear and calculation twisting his features.
"No way… we've been set up," he muttered, almost in disbelief.
But then his eyes returned to me, dark with killing intent. He lowered his voice, a whisper meant only for himself but clear enough for me to hear.
"He's already a nuisance, even fresh from the womb. He can't be allowed to live."
My blood ran cold. His knife rose, glinting in the dim light—pointed at me.
"W-wait! No way, no way! Shouldn't you be fighting my mother? Why are you looking at me like that?!" I panicked internally.
Nyxara's laughter echoed in my head, cruel and amused.
[ Hahahaha! It seems he prefers panda skewers over a real fight! Host, prepare yourself to be roasted—literally. ]
"Not the time!" I mentally screamed.
Before the captain could move an inch closer, a blur shot past my vision. Crack! His body jerked violently as my mother's palm struck him square in the chest, sending him crashing into the wall like a ragdoll.
She stood tall, her presence radiating an aura so overwhelming I could swear she looked like a superhero descending from the heavens. No—an angel. My angel.
The assassins hesitated. One step back, then another. But hesitation meant nothing now.
"Kill her!" one barked, and the fight erupted.
Blades flashed in the moonlight as shadows lunged toward her.
But my mother moved like water—fluid, graceful, untouchable. With no magic to call upon—her body still fragile from childbirth—she relied solely on mana enchantments coursing through her veins, enhancing her speed and strength far beyond human limits. Every strike was precise, efficient, devastating.
One assassin slashed at her throat; she tilted her head just enough, catching his wrist and twisting. The sound of snapping bone filled the air before she spun, driving her elbow into another's jaw. He collapsed without a scream.
Another lunged from behind, but she pivoted on her heel, leg sweeping upward in a kick that sent him sprawling across the floorboards. Each movement was sharp yet elegant, her figure weaving through the chaos like a dancer of death.
From my cradle, I watched with wide eyes, too stunned to even breathe.
[ Oooh, look at her go! Left hook, right spin, kaboom~ down they go! Host, your mother isn't an angel—she's an entire arena boss! ]
I twitched. "Nyxara… now's not the time to sound like a sports commentator!"
[ But host, don't you see? You're in the best seat in the house! VVIP panda package. ]
"Ugh—"
Just then, a throwing knife whistled through the air—straight toward me.
I froze. Too fast. Too sudden. This was it—!
Thwack!
The blade embedded itself into the fluffy ear of my ridiculous panda suit. My life flashed before my eyes.
[ Pfft—HAHAHAHAHA! Panda kebab denied! Oh, host, you almost became the rare 'Panda à la mode.' ]
"I-I'm not laughing!"
Before the assassin could throw another, Selene's foot slammed into his chest, the force launching him against the wall. He didn't get up.
The rest faltered, realizing their hopelessness.
And then— bang!
The doors burst open.
Knights stormed in, armor clanging, spears raised. The assassins glanced around, cornered on all sides.
"Capture them alive!" one knight shouted.
But the assassins didn't hesitate. One by one, they drew small black vials from their belts.
My heart dropped.
"They're… they're going to—"
Before I could finish the thought, the assassins downed the poison in unison. Their bodies stiffened, then collapsed lifelessly onto the floor.
Nyxara whistled.
[ Tch tch tch~ host, look at that. All that drama, and they went and rage-quit life themselves. ]
"…I think I'm traumatized."
Selene stood silently amid the fallen, her chest rising and falling as the mana enchantments wore off. Sweat clung to her brow, but her back was straight, her gaze cold as steel.
Yet when she turned to look at me, the terrifying aura melted away. All I could see was the warm, gentle smile of my mother.