Since a beauty invited him home, Oliver naturally wouldn't refuse.
He had originally planned to find a chance to visit Mortis's home and interact with Tribios, and now the opportunity had presented itself.
The two walked into the altar of the Lawful Titan, then turned left, entering the critical ritual area, the "Library of Prophecy."
Quite a few people were working here.
Mortis operated an instrument nearby, unlocking a hidden door.
A spiral stone staircase leading downwards appeared in the floor.
Oliver maintained a calm exterior, but inwardly he grumbled: Going home this time is way too complicated.
The two descended the stone staircase, where a large door appeared.
Wind chimes rattled wildly on the doorframe, clanging loudly, like a flock of startled metal Little Bird.
Mortis pushed the door open, and the wave of noise ruthlessly surged into the large room.
She stepped aside, making way, and said softly, "This is my home. Please come in."
Oliver stepped inside, and the sound softened somewhat beneath his feet.
What met his eyes were stone pillars and bookshelves, completely lacking a 'home' atmosphere—it was essentially an underground warehouse!
Simply decorating it and calling it a residence shows that the Saintess's treatment here is truly subpar.
Just as they reached the middle of the room—"Mama!"
A clear, childish voice, full of endless attachment and joy, suddenly rang out, instantly drowning out the clamor of the wind chimes.
A tiny figure, like a swallow returning to its nest, rushed out with a gust of wind from the warm, yellow light deep inside the room!
Her bright red hair was a little fluffy, and a few playful strands fell onto her forehead as she ran.
She was like a little cannonball, crashing straight into Mortis's arms. The impact caused Mortis to subconsciously lean back half a step, letting out a brief, doting chuckle.
The lingering fatigue on Mortis's face was instantly illuminated and lifted, like mist dispersed by the sun, the moment her daughter rushed into her embrace.
She bent down, naturally opening her arms, hugging the small, warm body tightly, and a pure, gentle smile bloomed on her face.
"Slow down, my dear child." Mortis's voice was soft as melted honey and full of laughter. "Be careful not to fall."
Oliver naturally recognized the explosively cute little girl instantly: it was Tribbie.
No, more accurately, it was Tribios in her childhood. (As pictured)
Tribios buried her little face in her mother's chest, rubbing affectionately, and let out a contented murmur.
A few seconds later, as if remembering something, she suddenly lifted her head.
Her large, blue-violet eyes, clear as an early autumn lake, looked past her mother's arm and waist, filled with undisguised curiosity, and focused directly on Oliver—a stranger—who was standing beside her mother.
Her gaze held the natural curiosity of a child.
There was no dodging, no shy probing, only the purest, unmasked curiosity and scrutiny of a child.
Her small hands were still wrapped around her mother's waist, but her body was slightly turned toward Oliver, exhibiting an animal-like innocence.
Clearly, Mortis had protected her well and had not let her know the dark side of human nature.
Oliver's heart softened slightly.
Without hesitation, he took a small step forward, allowing himself to be fully exposed in the warm light flowing from the room, and then slowly crouched down in front of the mother and daughter.
His eyes were level with the little girl, who was clinging to her mother and filled with curiosity and inquiry.
The corners of his mouth curved into an arc that was as gentle and non-aggressive as possible, and his gaze calmly met those pure yet scrutinizing blue-violet eyes.
"Hello, Tribios." Oliver's voice was very soft, like a feather landing on calm water, and carried a sincere smile. "My name is Oliver."
The little girl's long eyelashes fluttered twice, like startled butterfly wings.
Her small mouth was slightly open, revealing tiny, white teeth.
She looked at Oliver, then subconsciously looked up at her mother.
Mortis's hand rested soothingly on the back of her daughter's head, and she said softly, "He is Lord Emissary. He was sent by the gods to help us."
She hadn't expected Oliver to be so approachable.
He was actually willing to condescend and communicate with Tribios at eye level.
Tribios's gaze returned to Oliver's face: "Are you an Emissary of Janus? Or talanton, or Oronis?"
Oliver smiled and shook his head: "None of them. I come from beyond this world. Above the Titan there are still gods, called 'Star Gods.' And I am the Emissary of the Abundance Star God."
Tribios: "Really? Then can you make the Black Tide disappear?"
The little girl blinked her large eyes, which were full of curiosity.
"Of course I can, but I need your power. How about you help me dispel the Black Tide when you grow up?"
Oliver chuckled.
Of course, this was just humoring a child.
Amphoreus has an Emanator behind it, and perhaps even a Star God.
He didn't think that relying solely on the Power of Abundance could solve the problem.
Moreover, he never intended to save the world; he only needed to focus on the protagonist of the script.
Mortis also smiled lightly.
She currently had no knowledge of gods outside the Titan, so she naturally didn't believe Oliver could solve the world-threatening Black Tide.
She was simply delighted to see Oliver's kindness toward her daughter.
"Of course she can. Tribios is the most amazing Saintess of the Janus Path of the Titan... Little Saintess!"
The girl quickly accepted this amiable stranger. She left her mother's embrace and reached out to hold Oliver's arm: "Lord Emissary, can you tell me a story? I want to hear your story."
Oliver was not surprised by this.
Before he transmigrated, he was very popular with children back on Earth.
Especially little girls; none of them disliked him.
This talent worked just as well in this foreign world.
"Alright, then I'll tell you the story of the Benevolent Medicine King."
Oliver lightly patted the empty spot on the carpet beside him.
Tribios barely hesitated.
As if pulled by an invisible thread, she let go of her mother. Her small body, filled with a sense of eager yet tentative excitement, ran a few steps to Oliver's side and sat down right next to him.
The little girl curled up her legs, hugged her knees, and kept her eyes glued to Oliver.
Mortis watched her daughter be drawn away so easily, her eyes flickered with a complex emotion, and then she silently walked over and sat down beside Oliver, perking up her ears, eager to hear Oliver describe the outside world.
"Beyond the sky is the universe, and Amphoreus is merely a tiny speck of dust within it. Compared to the Titan are like children."
"May all sentient beings obtain what they seek."
"The Medicine Master is the nurturer of all beings, the God of the Elysian Realm, whose purpose is to ensure life flourishes endlessly."
"He is the Star God who never refuses a prayer, and cannot bear to witness decay and sickness."
Tribios immediately held her breath, and her small body scooted closer to Oliver, so close that he could smell the faint floral scent in her hair... For a long time afterward, Oliver told stories to the mother and daughter, popularizing concepts like the universe, Path, Emanator, and Star Gods—Little Tribios asked questions non-stop, filled with curiosity about everything.
Oliver was extremely patient with the child, answering every question.
Although the stories were meant for the little girl, Mortis listened even more attentively.
She never interrupted, simply watching Oliver with her beautiful eyes to show that she was listening.
Watching her daughter nestle beside Oliver, her small face completely devoid of defenses, showing only pure smiles and trust.
Seeing the bright, sparkling light in her daughter's large eyes, a light she had never seen before.
Mortis's gaze lingered on her daughter for a long time, then slowly shifted to Oliver's lowered profile, which held a gentle smile.
She saw the focus and patience in Oliver's eyes as he told the story, his natural response to Tribios's every subtle reaction, and the unspoken, heartfelt affection and care he held.
Mortis's heart felt as if it had been suddenly and heavily struck by something.
The impact wasn't painful; instead, it carried a strange, throbbing ache that made her eyes feel slightly warm.
If... if she could let this lamp, this ray of starlight, continue to warmly illuminate her Tribios... This thought was so immense, carrying a weight that made her tremble, and... hope.
She watched her daughter leaning against him securely, observed the man's gentle profile as he told the story, and the image of Oliver holding her earlier that day flashed through her mind.
That handsome, gentle, decisive, and powerful sense of security—Mortis felt her throat tighten, unable to utter a sound.
Only the long-silent heart in her chest, in the quiet living room, beat heavily and powerfully, one thump after another, as if demanding a crucial answer concerning her future.
In this moment, an unprecedented thought surfaced in Mortis's mind—Tribios needed a father—because Tribios was conceived from the fruit of Fate, lacked a father, and had never experienced paternal love.
Maybe it could work—Oliver was just finishing talking about Penacony when suddenly a weight settled on his shoulder.
He turned his head and saw that Mortis had tilted her head and fallen asleep leaning on his shoulder.
He looked down again, and Tribios was also asleep, clutching the hem of his clothes.
The mother and daughter were surprisingly relaxed, completely unguarded.
It was one thing to invite a man she just met home, but for the mother and daughter to both lean on him while sleeping—the key point was that the clothes he was currently wearing exposed his shoulder.
Mortis's face and Oliver's shoulder were touching directly, without any barrier.
That delicate, warm touch—and her faint breathing—"This script experience is truly excellent, five-star rating."
Though it was called a script, Oliver felt there was no difference from a real experience; he couldn't tell them apart at all.
The warmth of this family made him indulge in the moment.
He simply maintained the position until the dawn of the next day.