PROLOGUE
[Scylla, Concubine of the 73rd Demon Lord]
[Unknown]
“If we were to release a frail child to this world alone, what would happen?”
The young lord held a bottle of wine. He sat drunkenly on an ornate seat made of gold.
“Would the child struggle, resist, and live?”
Blood splattered the chamber’s walls. It was a beautiful sight, where the boastful mouths of those who chose to oppose the young lord were now eternally silenced.
“Could there be a hopeful outcome for those who were abandoned? Those who were left by their family—father, mother, siblings, and all? Such a child, devoid of protection and an absence of a nurturing family. A child who has not experienced the warmth of a parent’s embrace and the comforting words of siblings......”
It seems like the young lord is in another mumbling session, though this time he may be just drunk. While it is quite concerning that the young lord has been a drunkard lately, it did not hamper our current goals.
Well, what can I say? I am merely a concubine to his lordship after all. This much is common.
“What will happen...... what will happen......”
He turned to me, who was standing quietly by his side.
“Scylla, what do you think would happen?”
From what it seems, this is going to be a long night.
“If your lordship with such intelligence cannot answer it, then this one, who is a mere servant, cannot even fathom to answer such questions.”
The young lord tilted his head. His eyes darted for a while, then suddenly stopped.
“Oh right.” A small grin was seen on his face. “They shatter, break down, collapse, and eat themselves. They waste away and die. Children who have no protection from the cruelty of this world face ruin. They wake up to nothing, live up to nothing, and ultimately expect nothing.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“......”
“Should a child be taken care of. Should a child be given warmth, comfort, and protection. A child to live a life of adoration would thrive in this world, much like a delicate seed planted in fertile soil. Just as a plant would flourish in the right environment. A child is all the same.”
Although I consider myself to have adequate intelligence to even contest privileged scholars. The young lord seems to have ascended and understood something within the most inner fragments of the mind and discovered a part of it not known to anyone other than himself.
Basically, a madman.
“But what if those that made the child, its parents, its siblings, slowly...... slowly...... bit by bit...... little by little...... be taken away? Would the plant wither? Would the child still be able to survive? Would they still thrive? Or would they be the same as the children who had nothing? Would they waste away and die like an unfed dog? Would they collapse like a building with no pillar? Or would they break like a fallen vase? What would they do?”
The young lord turned his gaze towards me again, waiting for my answer.
“Would they not live off their own?” I opened my mouth. “As your lordship has just muttered, a child would not have the necessary skills to live, yet why couldn’t they? I, myself, am a child who resembles such descriptions. Nevertheless, I live. It is only part of their laziness that obstructs them; that is why they die.”
“Ah, a great answer,” the young lord drank from the bottle of wine. “Pitiable, yes, quite pitiable, really. Not only are these children being made an outcast by society but also by their families. Like that of an empty oasis.”
The young lord raised both his hands and started to shout.
“Oasis! Oh, oasis! A place of comfort and protection, our sanctuary! Where shall you be now? Has the greenery within your pond already withered? Or has the pond been reduced to a mere puddle? The water that has conserved and kept life in this vast, empty desert cannot be seen anymore. Ah...... where has your water gone? I beggeth ye to quench my thirst!”
“......”
The young lord began to laugh hysterically, as if he were introduced to a joke that could kill him with laughter. Then, as abruptly as he began to laugh, he also abruptly composed himself.
“Now, let’s say, by some miracle, that the plant survives in such a harsh environment. It clawed its way from the infertile ground with all the nutrients it could squeeze. The plant, slowly but surely, adapts to its environment. Surviving amidst the wasteland.”
The young lord stood beside me.
“Even if a child is still a child, it can decide for itself, fend for itself, and live for itself. A child can do so as they are living creatures themselves. And you, standing before me now, are a fruit of that.”
“No matter how unfair the world is?”
“No matter how unfair the world is.”
“That is...... not the answer I expected.”
. . .
A CHILD REFLECTS ITS PARENTS,
BUT THOSE WHO HAVE NONE SHALL REFLECT THE WORLD......
. . .
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