It’s been a month since Nyxis and I made this mountain nest our home. And yeah, life’s been... *interesting*. The Cursed Forest is a freaking nightmare buffet, but hey, I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve been exploring deeper layers, taking down all sorts of freaky monsters using only my magic. **Only. My. Magic.**

Why only magic, you ask? Because apparently, my "strength" is a goddamn joke. Status says I’ve got the power of an orc, a red bear, and even a Skyrend Aegiron—yet here I am, losing to a *goblin.*

Yeah, you heard that right. A fucking goblin.

Let me set the scene for you: I spotted this little green bastard skulking around the outer layer of the forest. I figured, *Hey, why not test my physical strength for once?* After all, I’d been getting real comfy relying on my magic. Time to see what my "orc-red-bear-Skyrend" muscles could do.

So, I walked right up to the little shit, puffed out my chest, and yelled, "Hey, you ugly bag of puke! Over here!"

The goblin snarled and charged. I thought I had this in the bag. I went for a punch—just one clean punch—and... it slapped my fist away. *It slapped my fist away.* Before I could even process what happened, the thing kicked me square in the stomach and sent me rolling like a damn tumbleweed.

By the time I scrambled to my feet, wheezing like a deflated balloon, the goblin had already lost interest and wandered off. It didn’t even bother to finish me off.

"Fucking hell..." I groaned, clutching my bruised ego as much as my stomach.

That was the moment I realized: my so-called "strength" doesn’t actually *work.* The status says I’ve got the strength of monsters I’ve devoured—orc, red bear, Skyrend—but it’s like my body hasn’t gotten the memo. It’s all in there somewhere, but I can’t seem to use it.

"How the hell does it even work?" I muttered, glaring at my hands like they’d betrayed me.

I’ve tried everything since then—punching trees, lifting rocks, even doing push-ups. Nada. Zilch. Meanwhile, my magic has been leveling up like crazy. I can roast, electrocute, drown, and slice enemies six ways to Sunday without breaking a sweat. But my physical strength? Let’s just say a stiff breeze could probably knock me over.

Nyxis, of course, finds this hilarious. She’s always watching me with those curious eyes, tilting her head like, *What the hell is this idiot doing now?*

"Don’t look at me like that," I grumbled one day after my hundredth failed attempt at "training."

She chirped and snuggled up to me, clearly trying to cheer me up. "Aleks, no worry. You strong! Magic strong!"

"Yeah, magic," I sighed. "But what if I run out of mana, huh? What then? You gonna carry my fat ass?"

Nyxis just blinked at me, then nodded like that was the most obvious solution in the world.

I couldn’t help but laugh. "Alright, fine. Guess we’ll stick with magic for now."

Still, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something I’m missing. Some trick to unlocking the physical power lurking inside me. But until I figure it out, I’ll just keep roasting goblins with fireballs. At least that works.

My life with Nyxis has settled into something I never expected: peaceful, almost... domestic. It’s surreal, really. Me—a former exiled prince, self-proclaimed screw-up, and glorified walking buffet for monsters—now playing house with the daughter of a goddamn legendary Skyrend Aegiron.

Turns out, teaching Nyxis how to properly use her magic is the most fun I’ve had in this world so far. And man, this kid learns fast. Faster than I expected. She’s already using her Skyrend abilities like a pro—better than me, if I’m being honest.

Not that I’m slacking off, mind you. I’ve been learning right alongside her, and every time she pulls off a perfect spell, I feel like some proud dad at a school talent show. We’ve had a lot of fun days together, just us two.

Lady Nyx, wherever you are… I hope you know I’m doing my best to take care of your daughter. For now, we’re living peacefully.

Well, mostly peacefully. I did try tapping into Chaos Magic again the other day. Big mistake. That shit’s like letting a raging bull loose in my brain. The power’s insane, but if I overuse it, my head feels like it’s about to explode. I’ll need to work on that—slow and steady wins the race, right?

Meanwhile, Nyxis… she’s growing. Fast. Too fast. The girl’s already bigger than me now, which is both terrifying and adorable. She’s also started speaking properly, which has been a blessing and a curse.

Just today, she came running up to me with a big grin, her golden eyes sparkling like the sun breaking through storm clouds. "Papa Alexx! Papa Alexx! I’m hungry!"

Papa.

That word hit me like a lightning bolt. She started calling me Papa, and I didn’t even notice when it began. My chest felt tight, my vision blurred, and I realized... I was crying. Tears of pure, unfiltered joy.

"Nyxis," I said, wiping my eyes and laughing through the tears, "I’ll make you the best damn meal you’ve ever had. Just wait a little, alright?"

Nyxis chirped in delight, bouncing around like the oversized child she is.

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This… this isn’t a bad life. Not at all. As I watched her preen her feathers and hum happily to herself, I felt this warmth in my chest, like maybe I’d found my place in this crazy world.

But then reality came crashing down.

"Wait, wait, wait," I muttered to myself, slapping my cheeks to snap out of it. "Am I getting too comfortable with this situation? What the hell happened to my real purpose?"

I stood there, staring at my reflection in a puddle. Fat, scruffy, and maybe a little too soft around the edges.

"No," I said firmly, clenching my fists. "I’m not just going to coast through life. My purpose is clear: I’m going to become the strongest in this world. For me. For Nyxis. For our future."

Nyxis, hearing my resolve, snuggled against me. "Papa Alexx… you strong. You protect Nyxis. Always."

I ruffled her feathers, smiling. "Damn right, kiddo. We’re going to take on this world together."

And with that, the spark reignited. Time to get back to work. Time to show this world what Alexander Solheart is really made of.

Life in the Cursed Forest has taken on a weird rhythm, one I never thought I’d get used to. Nyxis has been on fire lately—figuratively, not literally. She’s gotten damn good at hunting, often dragging back prey way above her level. Like, what the hell is a “Shadow Ravager”? I didn’t even know that thing existed until she plopped it down in front of me like some overachieving student showing off their science project.

Of course, that just means I’m back in the kitchen—well, forest equivalent—doing my thing. Skinning, seasoning, roasting… I’ve become *the* perfect housefather. Cooking gourmet meals in the middle of a deathtrap forest wasn’t exactly on my bucket list, but hey, here we are.

Honestly, the Cursed Forest doesn’t even feel cursed anymore. The deepest, nastiest parts? Conquered. Ever since Lady Nyx left, there was some chaos—territorial disputes and all that—but Nyxis and I quickly reminded these creatures who’s in charge now. We’re at the top of the food chain, baby.

Well, *she* is. Me? I’m still fighting the existential dread that is my strength stat. A solid *10* for over a month now. That’s right—double digits, but it might as well be a single. And no matter how much I work out, no matter how many hours I spend pushing logs or chasing Nyxis through the forest, my body refuses to budge. Belly? Still there. Arms? Still noodly.

I’ve even tried combat training, but that’s just turned into “dodge until I win” because, let’s be real, if something actually lands a hit, I’m screwed.

The only silver lining? I’ve gotten more agile. I don’t know if it’s from constantly dodging Nyxis’ playful swipes or from running around with these ridiculous magic-enhanced monsters, but I’m noticeably faster.

Still, it’s frustrating. I’m supposed to be the protector here. The exiled prince who rises from the ashes to claim his destiny. Instead, I’m the glorified babysitter with better cooking skills than combat ones.

As I sat by the campfire last night, Nyxis curled up next to me, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "What do you think, Nyxis?" I asked her. "Maybe I should just accept my role as the Cursed Forest’s first-ever stay-at-home dad."

Nyxis tilted her head, a little smirk forming on her beak. "Papa Alexx strong. No need big muscles. You protect Nyxis always."

I sighed, ruffling her feathers. "You’re just saying that because I make the best roasted Shadow Ravager in the forest."

She chirped happily, nuzzling into my side.

Alright, fine. So maybe I’m not the beefy, sword-swinging hero I imagined. But dammit, I’ve got magic, brains, and the best daughter in this godforsaken forest. We’ll figure it out. One roasted monster at a time.

But mark my words: I’ll figure out this strength thing. And when I do? The world better watch out, because Alexander Solheart isn’t staying in this forest forever. This is just the warm-up.

Exploring my **Gluttony** skill has been an enlightening—and occasionally disgusting—experience. Turns out, it’s not just about stealing abilities; it’s also about replenishing energy. A built-in snack bar for my magic reserves. Handy, but not quite the game-changer I expected.

Still, I’ve managed to keep a few skills. The **Speed of the Nightmare Horse**? That’s a keeper. The thrill of moving like I’ve got jet engines strapped to my feet is *chef’s kiss*. And then there’s **Controlling the Undead**, courtesy of that rancid lich meat. Seriously, that was the most revolting thing I’ve ever eaten—worth it, but barely.

I’ve decided not to hoard every damn ability. Too many powers would be like juggling flaming swords blindfolded—cool until it gets you killed. For now, just the essentials.

Things have been… quiet, almost too quiet. Until about a week ago, when the horizon lit up with a raging inferno that burned for days.

Flames. So high they touched the clouds.

It could only mean one thing: **Nyx**.

She’s been bested.

I felt it in my gut—a deep, wrenching sense of loss I didn’t even want to acknowledge. Is Nyx really gone? Did she go out in a blaze of glory like she planned, taking as many of those human bastards with her as she could?

I didn’t let myself dwell on it. Couldn’t afford to.

But something wasn’t adding up. My mind started spinning, piecing together fragments of memories and events. I remembered the game—the so-called *Light of Solarius*.

In the game’s story, there was never a mention of **Nyx having a daughter**. Not once. The Skyrend Aegiron was a legendary monster the hero fought, and it was taken down just before a demon general led a medium-sized army in a major event.

But here? Here, Nyxis exists, and she’s very real.

It’s like the story’s unraveling. Following its scripted paths, sure, but with all these hidden threads and untold tales filling in the gaps. Nyx’s prophecy was right—the world is changing.

It hit me like a sledgehammer: this isn’t just the game anymore. This is real life, with all its unpredictable, messy, heart-wrenching twists. The untouched corners of the game world? They’re alive, breathing, growing.

The timeline doesn’t matter anymore. The game’s story doesn’t matter.

What matters is **Nyxis**.

Her, and me. That’s it.

“Fuck the game,” I muttered to myself. “From now on, it’s just us.”

No more worrying about prophecies or timelines. No more obsessing over what the world expects.

This is my life now. And I’ll burn the whole damn world down before I let anything happen to my daughter.

It had been a month since Nyx left us, and I thought I had everything under control. Life was simple: hunt, cook, teach Nyxis, explore the forest, rinse, repeat. I’d finally started to feel like I had my shit together.

Then, of course, life threw a curveball.

I was by the fire, roasting some demon boar meat (delicious, by the way, if seasoned right). Behind me, I heard the unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

"Nyxis!" I groaned, not even looking back. "How many times do I have to tell you? If you drag your kills around, at least put them in the storage area! You’re gonna ruin the meat!"

But then her chirpy voice chimed in, completely derailing my train of thought:

“Papa Alex… it’s not a hunt this time. It’s a human, like you. I found her near the river in the second layer of the forest.”

Wait. **What?**

I whipped around, and there she was. A woman. Human. Unconscious and looking like she’d been through hell and back. Her clothes were torn, bloodied, and caked with dirt. She had gashes running along her arms, and her breathing was shallow, like she was clinging to life by a thread.

For a second, my mind went blank. A human? Here? In the **Cursed Forest**? The second layer isn’t exactly a walk in the park, and most humans wouldn’t make it ten feet into this deathtrap.

I knelt beside her, checking for signs of life. She was still warm, her chest rising and falling in weak, uneven breaths. Her face, though streaked with dirt, had delicate features—a sharp contrast to her battered body.

"Shit," I muttered, shaking my head. "Of all the things to drop on me, Nyxis..."

Nyxis tilted her head, looking at me like I was overreacting. “Papa Alex, is she your friend?”

“Friend? Nyxis, I’ve never seen this woman before in my life!” I snapped, though I kept my voice low. “But she’s hurt. Badly. We need to help her.”

Nyxis leaned in closer, sniffing the woman like she was a piece of prey. “She smells weak,” she said innocently. “Will she die?”

“Not on my watch,” I said firmly. “Now, go grab some water from the spring. I’ll handle this.”

Without another word, Nyxis darted off, her growing wings flapping slightly as she moved.

I turned back to the woman. “What the hell were you doing in this forest?” I muttered, pulling out some herbs through my earth magic “This place isn’t exactly a tourist spot, lady.”

I carefully rubbed her wounds with crushed herbs, their healing properties seeping into her torn skin. With gentle precision, I tilted her head back and trickled a bit of the medicine I’d concocted into her mouth, helping her swallow unconsciously.

It wasn’t a perfect fix—the potion couldn’t replace the blood she’d lost or erase the exhaustion etched into her face—but it would be enough to stabilize her. For now, that was all I could do.

Nyxis returned moments later, carrying a hollowed-out log filled with water. “Here, Papa Alex!”

“Good girl,” I said, ruffling her head feathers.

I used a bit of the water to clean the woman’s wounds, carefully wiping away the grime. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

Nyxis sat beside me, watching intently. “Papa Alex, will she stay with us?”

“I don’t know, Nyxis,” I admitted. “But until she wakes up, she’s our responsibility.”

Nyxis nodded solemnly, her eyes shining with curiosity.

Great. Another mouth to feed. Another complication in my already fucked-up life.

But as I looked at the woman’s fragile form, something in me softened.

“Guess we’ll figure this out when you wake up,” I murmured.