Little Merlin stood there dumbfounded, watching Mahina—who was always so composed—now covered in sticky sugar stains from head to toe, still spreading her arms wide, shielding Little Merlin with her thin back.
Not far away, Lucia was already firmly trapped by the semi-solidified ice cream, unable to move.
‘I can’t do it… I can’t do anything…’
Little Merlin trembled as she lowered her head, staring at the Silver Holy Sword in her hands, which now felt unbearably heavy.
Her small hands, wrapped in white silk stockings, trembled from excessive strain. Tears welled up in her eyes, eventually streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto her transparent stockings and leaving wet stains.
‘Why… am I powerless again? Am I going to be defeated by the Demon King? Am I going to be protected by everyone again?’
Just as Little Merlin was giving up all hope, believing she would be swallowed by the Orange Ice Cream Abyss—
The world suddenly pressed pause.
The originally noisy and harsh laughter of the Demon King, the gurgling sound of syrup churning, the rustling of wind passing through her hair—all of it disappeared. In that instant, everything vanished without a trace. The dazzling orange hell before her eyes lost its color, and the surrounding space peeled away like shattered mirror fragments.
Little Merlin’s consciousness felt a light weightlessness, then fell into a boundless, pure white domain.
“Little one, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A voice—ethereal, sacred, yet carrying a certain reassuring familiarity—rang out leisurely in the pure white space.
As particles of light gathered, a woman with silver hair flowing like moonlight, her face shrouded in a soft halo, floated quietly before her. She was barefoot, her white dress seeming woven from starlight, radiating an endless gentle aura.
Calmed by that aura, Little Merlin miraculously stopped crying. Without showing fear, she blinked her large eyes, still glistening with tears, and looked up at the woman quietly.
“Who are you?”
The woman covered her mouth gently, letting out a silvery laugh: “Me? Hehe…”
“Just think of me as your big sister from the family.”
“Big sister…” Little Merlin tilted her head. Though questions bubbled up in her mind like bubbles, she didn’t dwell on the title. She was more concerned about the current situation.
“Why… am I here?”
“Because I wanted to meet you, sweetie.”
“Meet me?”
“That’s right. I’ve met every child of the Elven Royal Family. We were destined to meet eventually, but since I had the chance to see you early, of course I wanted to come.”
For some reason, Little Merlin felt a warm sensation radiating from the woman—like a fireplace in winter, or a blanket dried in the sun. It carried a familiar closeness similar to Ophelia, making her completely drop her guard.
“Diliya… sister…”
“Alright, hmm. Just call me Diliya, Merlinlia.”
Hearing that soft call, the love in Diliya’s eyes instantly overflowed.
“Ahh—!!”
Letting out a joyful cry, with no trace of formality, she crouched down and pulled Little Merlin into her arms.
“Mmph?!”
Before Little Merlin could react, she was already buried in Diliya’s impossibly soft embrace.
“Why are all our little ones so adorable! Seriously… why was I in such a hurry to let you all grow up? I should have set it so the babies would take fifty years… no, a hundred years to grow!”
Diliya treated Little Merlin like a beloved plush toy, cuddling and rubbing her. She nuzzled her cheek against Little Merlin’s smooth little face, occasionally making “smooch” sounds on Merlin’s cheek.
Little Merlin’s little face thus endured the tsunami of maternal affection from this mysterious big sister. Though she didn’t dislike this warmth and actually found the faint fragrance pleasant, still…
“It’s… it’s a bit hard to breathe…”
“So cute, so cute! Merlinlia feels so soft and squishy, with a milky scent!” Diliya was completely immersed in the joy of baby-cuddling, unable to stop herself.
Little Merlin let out a small animal-like whimper: “Grrruhh… That’s the scent of Mom’s shampoo seeping into me!”
Little Merlin’s face turned bright red, whether from shyness or all the rubbing. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, recalling what Diliya had said earlier.
“Sister, do you know my mothers?”
Diliya smiled and stroked Merlinlia’s head in her arms: “Of course. The Elven Royal Family goes through baptism at age 6 and 18, right? So I’ve seen every royal child in both baby form and adult form. Though I almost missed Merlinlia… honestly.”
“Did Sister also see Cecilia and Ophelia’s baby forms?”
“Mhm, they were tiny back then too. The kind of babies with three-head proportions.”
“Wow.”
Little Merlin’s mouth fell open as she tried to imagine what the now mature and beautiful Ophelia looked like as a child. It was a bit hard for Little Merlin to picture the now mature, elegant, and even somewhat mischievous Ophelia hiding shyly behind pillars as a child. The contrast was too great—hard to imagine.
“Both are different from your two mothers.” Diliya seemed lost in memories, shaking her head helplessly. “Unlike your two mothers, when they were little… well…”
At this, she sighed regretfully: “Ophelia was too quiet, and Cecilia was too noisy—neither was fun! Merlinlia is the cutest and most fun, the most adorable in ten generations!”
Diliya loosened her embrace slightly, cupping Little Merlin’s face, examining her from left to right like appraising a treasure, satisfaction evident in her eyes: “Though it sounds a bit gleeful, it’s a good thing Merlinlia temporarily turned back into a baby. Otherwise, I would have missed out on this feel.”
Seeing that the gentle big sister’s eyes were growing more excited, seemingly about to pounce again, Little Merlin instinctively stepped back half a step.
Diliya looked at the baby before her, blinking her large, curious eyes, and her smile deepened: “Actually, Ophelia must have sensed my presence. Otherwise, how would she obediently follow an unknown Maze Script?”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I saw Ophelia glance in my direction when she was changing you into that white sailor suit. It was because she sensed my existence that she let you go so readily.”
Diliya gently tapped Little Merlin’s pink nose: “Otherwise, how could your Ophelia mother, who treasures you so much, suddenly let you go? At the very least, she would have followed you.”
Little Merlin lowered her head to think, though it was unclear whether she understood: “I see.”
Diliya continued stroking Little Merlin’s head: “Hmm… has my baby had fun this time?”