The delicate features of the little girl—her bright eyes, slender nose, and small ears, accompanied by silky chocolate-brown hair framing her face—were undeniably inherited from Monica. Her soft, smooth hair, like threads of silk, added an extraordinary charm to her beauty. Her round, slightly prominent cheeks were so flawless that anyone would be tempted to pinch them. Her petite nose, tiny ears, and gentle smile formed a perfectly balanced and innocent face.

This charming child stood before the three boys. Arin and Ayleran stared at her with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. Even Ayleran, who usually remained composed, found her surprisingly different from how she had appeared two nights ago. Only Arxil, seemingly indifferent, kept his gaze fixed on his book, unfazed by her presence. To him, appearances hardly mattered; with time, people’s true nature would inevitably reveal itself.

For a moment, the girl froze, overwhelmed by her emotions. The sunlight streaming through the large windows illuminated the three boys like statues of light and glory. She was struck by their otherworldly perfection—it felt unreal.

Ayleran and Arin, with their honey-blond hair, gleamed under the sun’s rays, while Arxil sat immersed in his book. His jet-black hair partially obscured his ruby-like eyes, which shimmered faintly even in the shadows of his face. They seemed like hidden gems nestled in the depths of darkness.

Suddenly, with his typical impulsive energy, Arin stood up from the couch and strode toward her. Towering over the six-year-old girl, he examined her curiously, circling around her as if trying to assess her energy. Then, a broad smile spread across his face, and he exclaimed,  

"So this unique energy belongs to the Demonic Angel!"  

Without skipping a beat, Ayleran replied coolly, "I was beginning to wonder if you’d notice."  

Arin laughed, shaking his head. "I can’t believe it! The Demonic Angel that everyone feared turns out to be just a tiny, adorable girl." He leaned closer to her, lowering himself slightly to make her feel at ease.  

"What’s your name?"  

After a brief hesitation, the girl softly replied, "Astia."  

Her voice was gentle, and her eyes sparkled with a hint of joy. Arin, captivated by her innocence, declared enthusiastically,  

"I’m so glad to have such an adorable little cousin. The Karnelimos family retains its splendor, and your energy core is impressively powerful!"  

Ayleran frowned at Arin and said, "Hey, Arin! You forgot to introduce yourself!"  

Arin chuckled at his oversight and quickly said, "You’re right—sorry about that. I’m Arin... Arin Karnelimos."  

Astia smiled at him and asked, "It’s nice to meet you, Arin. Can I call you brother?"  

Arin’s joy was evident, lighting up his face. He nodded enthusiastically and then turned to point at Arxil.  

"And this... this walking iceberg over here... is Arx, my younger brother."  

Arxil, finally lifting his eyes from the book, muttered, "Do you really have to emphasize that I’m younger every time you introduce me?"  

"Of course! Why wouldn’t I?" Arin replied with a mischievous grin.  

"Ugh... Dear heavens," Arxil sighed, exasperated.

Suddenly, Arin snatched the book from Arxil’s hands, forcing him to stand up. Laughing, Arin returned the book but pulled his younger brother closer to the girl.  

"Arx doesn’t talk much. So don’t take it personally, little one," Arin explained.  

"I can speak for myself. You don’t need to talk on my behalf," Arxil retorted coolly.  

"Then go ahead—say something before she gets the wrong impression!" Arin countered.  

A moment of silence followed, during which Astia found herself unable to control her emotions. The moment she laid eyes on Arxil, a flood of memories overwhelmed her—memories she couldn’t quite piece together. Every fragment of their shared past, though distant and fragmented, stirred an inexplicable sorrow within her.

Suddenly, before Arxil could utter a word, she burst into tears. The hot tears rolled down her cheeks, unbidden and unstoppable. It wasn’t until she noticed the three boys staring at her in stunned silence that she realized she was crying.

Arxil, who had been preparing to say something, froze mid-thought. The intensity of Astia’s gaze as it locked onto him unsettled him deeply, stirring a pang of guilt he couldn’t ignore. That look reminded him of how people usually regarded him—with fear and disdain. Known as the Empire’s nightmare, Arxil couldn’t fathom why his presence had caused this little girl such grief.  

"Why... Why are you crying?" he asked softly, his voice uncertain.  

Astia, startled, wiped her cheeks and whispered, "Crying...?" She hadn’t even noticed when the tears had begun. Quickly, she used the sleeve of her dress to dry her face, but Arin handed her a handkerchief before she could finish.  

"Thank you," she murmured, taking the handkerchief and using it to wipe away her tears. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was their first meeting, and she had already managed to make a poor impression by breaking down. What a terrible way to start.