The wooden table, which usually felt like a place of warmth and laughter, had transformed into a cold interrogation bench. The smell of the stew was still there, but no one dared to pick up a spoon. The silence was so thick it felt like the air itself had turned into lead.
Robin sat directly across from Rany. His massive frame cast a long, intimidating shadow over the small girl. His eyes, sharp and piercing, never left hers. Within those eyes was a chaotic storm of emotions: the primal fear of a warrior facing a "monster," but also a deep, unspoken worry for the safety of his home and the fragile child sitting before him.
To Rany's right, Valia's face was the most painful to look at. She wasn't an elite warrior like Robin; she was a mother. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the edge of the table. Her eyes weren't filled with suspicion, but with a terrifying dread. She looked as if she expected Rany to disappear or shatter into pieces at any moment.
Then there was Vany. The young hybrid sat close to Rany, her tail tucked between her legs. In this village, children were born as wolves or hybrids, only achieving a total human form after the age of seventeen. Seeing Rany—a five-year-old in a perfect human form—was an anomaly she couldn't comprehend. Instinctively, Vany reached out and placed her hand over Rany's, a silent, confused gesture of protection—as if the older "sister" was trying to shield her "little sister" from the heavy atmosphere.
Robin was the first to break the silence. His voice was low, vibrating through the wooden floor. "We have given you a roof and a bed, Rany. But after what I saw today... I cannot remain silent. I have lived long enough to know that power like yours doesn't just 'appear' in a five-year-old child."
He leaned forward, his gaze intensifying. "I will ask you only once, and I need the truth: Where do you really come from? What kind of place, or what kind of master, could create someone like you?"
Before Rany could even answer, Valia choked back a sob, her voice high with desperation. "Why, Rany? Why did you do something so dangerous? You could have died! You're just a child... why are you forcing yourself to carry such a terrifying power?"
Rany sat perfectly still. She felt Vany's small hand trembling against hers, the only source of simple, uncomplicated warmth in the room. She knew this moment would come. In any system, an unidentified "file" would always be scanned. Now, she had to decide how much of the "source code" she was willing to reveal.
Rany lowered her head, her white hair veiling her face.
"I... I don't remember where I came from," she whispered.
"I only remember my name. The power... it feels like a blessing from the Goddess, intertwined with fragments of memories that don't belong to this body. Like a life I lived long ago."
The confession struck Robin like a physical blow. The warrior's stern expression crumbled. He realized that the "monster" he feared was just a lonely soul chosen by destiny. Guilt washed over him; he had treated a traumatized child like a high-level threat.
Without a word, Robin stood up, walked around the table, and pulled Rany into a firm, protective embrace.
"Forgive me, little one," he rumbled, his voice thick with emotion.
"I was too harsh. You shouldn't have to carry such weight alone."
Valia felt her heart break. The fear she felt earlier turned into pure, maternal compassion. She rushed to join the embrace, wrapping her arms around both of them. Even Vany buried her face in Rany's side, crying as the cold tension melted into overwhelming warmth.
For Rany, the world seemed to stop. In her previous life, she had spent over 28 years in a cold reality where she barely knew the meaning of family. Now, the dam finally broke. Rany sobbed—not as a master of cultivation, but as a child who had finally found her way home. The dinner that followed was the quietest, yet most beautiful meal they had ever shared.
Later that night, Rany and Vany fell asleep in each other's arms. Robin and Valia stood at the doorway, watching them.
"She has the mark of a great destiny, Robin," Valia whispered. "But tonight, she just looks like she belongs here."
Robin watched Rany's soft, sleeping face. The idea that had been forming in his mind finally took shape.
"She does. Perhaps... it is time we make it official. She shouldn't just be a guest, Valia. She should be our daughter."
Valia looked at her husband, her eyes still glistening with tears, yet a spark of happiness shone within them. She gave a soft nod—a wordless agreement that from this night onward, their hearts were fully open to welcome Rany's presence.
"Yes," Valia whispered faintly. "She is our child."
With one last look at theua girls sleeping peacefully, Valia pulled the door handle. She closed it with the utmost gentleness, ensuring not a single sound would disturb the beautiful dream of the girl who had just found her world again.