CHAPTER 87: GOD’S TALKS

"Hey, look! The saviors of this world are about to be born!"

"Let’s see if they’ll still be born in the second loop."

"You really think this first loop will fail? Hahaha."

"Of course. Other worlds needed thousands of loops before they succeeded. And almost every time, the saviors born in one loop don’t appear in the next."

"Makes sense. Even with the same pairing, the slightest change in timing or action can alter which savior is born."

"But this Lifebearer isn’t bad. She actually managed to bring forth saviors in her very first loop."

"Anyone could survive if they never stepped outside for nine whole months. Hmph! This Lifebearer’s boring. She should be wandering the world and dying in her first loop like all the others."

"Is she really that much of a fantasy-world fan? Maybe there’s some mistake in the records."

"No mistake. She’s just a loser."

"I was hoping she’d die when she was nearly sold as a slave."

"ENOUGH!"

The disembodied voices that had been laughing and arguing fell silent at once. A single familiar voice cut through the chatter.

"Stop spying! You’ll bring another disaster upon a world that’s already on the brink of collapse."

"Relax, Goddess Freya. You get to talk to your Lifebearer—why can’t we watch for once?"

"She’s right, don’t hog all the fun. Nothing will happen. You’re too uptight, hahahaha."

The laughter seemed harmless, but their voices turned into streaks of lightning and rolling thunder across the heavens.

Rain poured in sheets, and the wind howled fiercely.

Then...

"The first savior has been born!"

"Such a powerful aura... truly worthy of being the first. It’s a shame he won’t appear again in the next loop."

"Yes... such a shame."

"I told you to stop! The Lifebearer’s protective barrier will shatter if you keep this up!"

"It won’t sha—"

Crack!

"—tter."

Miles away from the gods’ vantage, the storm hammered the roof of a vast mansion.

Inside, a middle-aged man in a white robe—its hem embroidered in emerald thread, three green stones set along the front—snapped his head up.

"A druid child has been born," he muttered.

The skin along his cheek looked like bark, ridged and hardened, giving his face an even grimmer cast.

"No druids here in Raksa County were pregnant. Did one slip past me into this land?"

Knock. Knock.

The door to the maroon-carpeted chamber creaked open. A short, dark-skinned man with a bark-like patch across his forehead rushed in, breathless.

"M-Master Silvan, I-I felt it. A druid child has b-been born," he stammered.

"Did any new druids enter Raksa County?" Silvan demanded.

"N-no, Master. I-I believe... a sinner has crossed into the county."

Silvan’s gaze sharpened, his voice like a blade.

"The sinner fled to Raksa County? They dare to think me weak?"

The short man dared not answer, trembling under Silvan’s fury.

"Rais, we’re going. We’ll seize that sinner. Druid’s blood must never be tainted by the filthy blood of other races."

"Y-yes, my lord. I-I’ll prepare for the trip to F-Falopo Town."

Meanwhile, in Suruta Village, Gara’s first child had just been delivered.

Wina’s hands were still trembling as she held the newborn, its skin covered in a slick white amniotic fluid. Carefully, she carried the infant—who looked like any ordinary human baby—to a table draped with clean cloth.

With patient hands, she wiped the baby’s small body clean, checked each tiny finger and toe, the face, the head—making sure everything was whole and perfect.

"A healthy boy, Gara." Wina’s voice cracked with emotion, tears threatening to spill as she looked at her very first grandchild.

The middle-aged woman then wrapped the child in a soft blanket, keeping him warm and calm until his crying stopped.

From across the room, Gara’s eyes welled up too. But more than relief, a storm of anxiety churned inside him. His belly was still wide open. Another child still waited to be born.

He had wanted to call for Madha or Fian earlier, but the two men were standing guard outside. The protective barrier had shattered under a sudden strike of lightning, and they couldn’t risk leaving their posts.

No one knew what dangers might creep in during this delivery. Better to keep trouble away from the house.

"Mom... I can’t hold it much longer," Gara gasped.

When Wina turned, her son’s pale face met her gaze. Panicked, she gently set the reddish skin newborn into the crib. Then she rushed back to deliver Gara’s second child.

Gara bit down his groan, forcing himself to stay conscious. Even as his body was cut open, he had to keep his focus—controlling the flow of his water to seal blood vessels shut so he wouldn’t bleed out.

There was no blood transfusion here. No healer to step in. The only way to survive was to stop the blood from flowing altogether.

And so, tragically, Gara became his own healer in the middle of his childbirth.

After ten tense minutes, the second baby finally slipped free. Gara shuddered at the strange sensation—his insides churned and shifted as if stirred by unseen hands. His skin was numb, but deep inside, he still felt everything.

"A boy as well, and whole in every way." A smile spread across Wina’s weary face. "Look—he has bark along both arms. Just like a druid."

Her words startled Gara. He, a half-druid, bore no druidic marks on his own body. Yet his half-half-druid son carried them proudly.

Like with the first child, Wina gently cleaned the newborn, wrapping him with care.

Gara, meanwhile, felt his strength slipping away. His head throbbed, his eyelids grew heavy, and bile rose in his throat. It was the same crushing sensation of trying to hold back something too great.

"Just a little more, son," Wina whispered urgently. "Mom will close your wound soon."

She reached for the clamps holding Gara’s belly open—but then froze. Her eyes caught strands of hair pushing out, not from the same place as before, but slightly to the side.

At first, she thought it might be from one of the two babies already delivered. They both had hair, though not much. But then her breath hitched. Her body stiffened.

There was another baby. A third child.

...