Chapter 13 : A Lullaby for the Restless Night

Enya didn’t go upstairs to the bedroom right away to tell little Rosily she had returned. 

Instead, she walked into the backyard and squatted in a small, overgrown patch of land.

She casually grabbed a handful of dry soil and gently rubbed it between her fingers until it crumbled into fine dust.

After watching it for a moment, she turned her hand over and let it fall back to the earth.

Enya slowly stood up, brushed the dirt from her hands, and looked toward the darkening sky.

Confusion…When she first came to this world, she had been nothing more than a frail child. 

Those thirteen years of captivity left her heart filled with hatred toward Duke Frennard.

It was that hatred that sustained her, pushing her onto the path of cultivation. 

Her mind was consumed with avenging the pitiful woman she had only ever seen in a portrait—her birth mother.

Fueled by that conviction, and through countless fateful encounters, she broke through the limits of the common-blooded and returned to the Frennard household as an eighth-tier pinnacle warrior.

After defeating the duke in battle, Enya stepped into the ninth tier, becoming the only Commonblood Sword Saint of her time.

But after that… came the emptiness.

The hatred had already faded when she won that duel and Duke Frennard acknowledged his defeat.

That left Enya without a goal.

If she were simply a protagonist in a story, then her life would have ended at the climax. 

She wouldn’t have had to think about what came next.

But life isn’t a story. 

After that moment—where was she supposed to go?

Pursue even greater power?

That was never what Enya had truly wanted. 

To fill the hollowness in her heart, she had tried to find something else—like helping Vivienne realize her dream of reforming the empire and advancing civilization.

And for a time, she did help Vivienne, patiently and with effort.

Then came the news of the great dragon that had destroyed a border city.

And inside, Enya had felt a flicker of excitement.

A dragon—one that had remained hidden from the world!

She hoped Vivienne would allow her to slay the beast. 

Vivienne agreed. But then, Enya discovered that not even a dragon could fill her inner emptiness.

And after that… that woman appeared.

The wicked woman shattered Enya’s pride with two punches—shattered her purity too—dragging her from her lofty pedestal as a Sword Saint and forcing her back into the cold, brutal reality.

Infused with the dragon’s bloodline.

Forced to bear a child.

After the purity of her spirit, the purity of her body was taken too—by that wicked woman.

And now, she was going to hatch that child.

Enya lowered her eyes slightly. 

She fetched some tools, used magic to lift her body into the air, and flew into the woods. 

Beneath a massive ancient tree, she dug a two-meter-deep pit.

She pulled out her silver-gray longsword and ran her fingers along the cold blade. In a low voice, Enya said:

“You’ve been with me for so many years. I dug you out of the earth, and now I’ll bury you again. Hopefully, you’ll meet your next destined one.”

With that, she buried the sword. 

She stomped the earth down firmly and used magic potions to accelerate the growth of nearby plants, letting grass cover the spot entirely.

After finishing the task, Enya returned to her modest little house. 

She washed her hands in a basin before finally going upstairs and standing before the bedroom door.

She exhaled softly and pushed the door open.

Though little Rosily couldn’t move yet, she could still express her very clear discontent that Mama had returned home only to run off again—yet again!

Enya picked up the dragon egg and held it in her arms. 

Recalling some blurry memories, she gently rocked little Rosily—and it clearly worked. 

Feeling her mother’s presence and being nurtured by Enya’s source magic, Rosily finally stopped fussing and started peacefully absorbing that magic.

Once the baby had calmed down, Enya softly spoke to the egg.

“Rosily will get to see Mama very soon. But you have to promise Mama—you’ll be a good girl, okay?”

“?!!!”

Even though Rosily was still just an egg, she could understand what her mother meant.

The shell of the dragon egg was incredibly strong. 

For little Rosily to hatch naturally, she would need to absorb enough energy from her mother to fully form a sixth-tier core. 

If she succeeded, she would be born already stronger than 99% of humans. 

Of course, there was the option to hatch prematurely—but that would require external force.

When Enya buried her sword, she had already made up her mind to let go of everything from her past, even to let go of the identity of “Enya.” 

From now on, she would live wholeheartedly as Madam Phil Cloché, the mother of little Rosily.

What she never received from her own mother, she hoped to give to Rosily. 

In a way, this was Enya’s atonement to herself.

…

Late at night, after most people in the city had gone to sleep, Enya rose from the wooden bath barrel. 

The water on her skin quickly evaporated into a white mist. 

With only a towel wrapped around her, she walked into the study.

On the floor, a complex magic circle had been drawn. 

Enya stepped into the center, and after pulling off the towel, she extended her palm toward the core of the circle.

Specks of magic began to emerge from her smooth, fair skin. 

They swirled around her like they were whispering farewell, before falling into the three energy nodes of the magic formation on the floor.

“Cough… cough…”

Enya coughed awkwardly—not because she was naked, but because she was about to hum a little tune. 

She didn’t speak much on normal days, let alone sing.

But the arrow was already drawn, and she had no choice but to let it fly.

Closing her eyes, Enya forced herself to begin.

She didn’t understand melody; she simply hummed at random.

Her voice was soft and gentle, like a spring breeze warmed by sunlight.

On the ground, the glow of the magic circle deepened. 

The black prism crystals buried beneath the floor began to shine, transforming into a series of magical arrays that soon covered the entire Redwood City.

As her soft voice continued to hum, the dark clouds gathered over the city began to scatter. 

The oppressive atmosphere hovering above Redwood City slowly lifted.

“The people fall into the gentle dreams of the Goddess of Night.”

“Requiem — A Lullaby for the Restless Night.”

The spell circle emitted a second layer of violet-black light. 

Enya’s consciousness separated from her body, rising high above the sleeping Redwood City.

Now, she was ethereal and intangible, and notably, she had no dragon horns or tail—this meant it was Madam Phil Cloché who had arrived here.

Phil Cloché spread a pair of fairy-like, dream-colored wings and flew higher, to a place where she could look down over the entire city.

One by one, glowing bubbles floated up into the air—people’s dreams.

Madam Phil gently summoned those dream bubbles toward her. 

She combined them, fusing tens of thousands of dreams into a single massive dream bubble.

She brought this giant bubble down toward the city. 

As it settled over Redwood City, it shimmered like a real soap bubble—and with a soft pop, it disappeared.

At that moment, Madam Phil Cloché became fully solid, indistinguishable from a real, living person. 

She now resembled a true human being, fully formed.

Inside that dream world composed of hundreds of thousands of dreams, she added a small lie.

And thanks to the collective belief of so many people, Phil Cloché had come fully to life. 

Given time, she could even exist independently of Enya.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Phil now entered the bedroom where little Rosily slept.

She sat at the bedside and looked at her daughter, peacefully sleeping.

Even though she was still just an egg…

Rosily’s dream bubble had not yet merged with the larger dream world.

Phil held it gently in her hand, pressed it to her forehead, and closed her eyes to carefully craft a dream—a dream of a perfect childhood for her child.

Enya had never had a happy childhood. 

She wished for her Rosily to have one.

In the dream, Rosily still only had her mother, but she had many friends. 

Her mother, Phil, loved and cherished her dearly. 

Though she faced occasional troubles, the dream carried no real sorrow. 

Finally, this dream bubble, too, merged into the dream world.

At that moment, Enya returned to her senses in the study.

She walked slowly up the stairs and once again stood at the bedroom door.