Tap-tap.

"..."

Tap-tap.

"Ugh..."

Tap-tap-tap.

Who is it? I was having the sweetest sleep of my life.

I kept my eyes tightly shut, feeling a small hand poking at my cheek.

Was it Arwen playing a prank after waking up? There was no one else in bed but the two of us, so it had to be her.

Of course, it would be just like Arwen to do something cute like this in the morning. Smiling faintly, I reached out and hugged her with both arms.

Squeeze.

"Mm?"

As I hugged her, Arwen let out a soft, adorable sound like a baby. She was so petite that she fit perfectly in my arms...

"...Huh?"

No, I mean, she really fit perfectly. Not just as a figure of speech, but her entire body fit snugly in my embrace.

Not just her upper body, but her whole self. As small as she was, this didn’t make sense.

Still reluctant to open my eyes, I ran my hands over her body to confirm what I was feeling. Starting from her back, I moved to her tiny head and down to her legs.

...She was small. Way too small. It felt as though her entire body had shrunk, her proportions childlike.

Even stranger, I felt something faintly brushing against my hand from her back. It was like steam or mist slipping through my fingers.

This wasn’t Arwen. She wasn’t this small. Whoever this was had the body of a child.

Moreover, Arwen had a subtle, lily-like fragrance, not this sweet, almost candy-like scent.

"Who...?"

My eyelids trembled before I cautiously opened my eyes. Arwen’s bedchamber was strictly off-limits to anyone without her explicit permission.

If someone—or something—had entered and was now lying on the bed, the situation could be very serious.

When I finally opened my eyes...

Blink-blink.

I was met with golden eyes that sparkled like a bowl of amber and hair as red as my own.

"Mm?"

And on top of their head was a tiny, bashful sprout.

"..."

They say that when someone is too shocked or dumbfounded, words fail them. That was exactly my situation.

I blinked several times, staring at the child with sprout-like hair who bore an uncanny resemblance to me.

Still not understanding what was happening, I glanced over the child’s shoulder and saw Arwen still sound asleep.

Considering how intense last night had been, it seemed she’d sleep until at least noon.

"Mm..."

The child whimpered as I looked at Arwen, as if asking me to pay attention to them.

Reluctantly, I turned back to the child. Their golden eyes were brimming with curiosity.

‘So... let’s summarize this.’

I spent a passionate night with the woman I love, only to wake up the next day to find a child that looks like me lying between us.

Not even the most absurd soap opera—or novel, for that matter—would script something like this.

My mind was in such a whirl that I didn’t know how to react.

At least I wasn’t sleepy anymore. Whether this was a dream or reality, one thing was clear: this was real.

Swish.

I slowly sat up to better assess the situation. Not wanting to show anything inappropriate, I kept my lower half covered with the blanket.

The child, who had been lying down as I hugged them, sat up as well. Now that I could see more clearly, I noticed their hair was as long as mine.

And amidst that red hair, I spotted something peculiar: pointed ears peeking out, much like those of an elf.

That alone was enough to make me uneasy, but what truly startled me was their back.

"...What is this?"
"Mm?"

It was hard to make out at first because it was faint and semi-transparent, like mist, but squinting revealed it.

Just as demons are depicted with horns and bat wings in ancient texts, angels are said to bear certain symbols as well: a glowing halo above their head and pure white wings.

Angels, long extinct, are known only through these records.

And this child... instead of a halo, had a tiny sprout on their head, and their back bore faint, semi-transparent wings.

Their appearance was both strange and unbearably adorable, radiating an aura of mystery and charm.

‘What’s even happening right now?’

A curse almost slipped out. I blinked in disbelief, then glanced toward the desk where the World Tree’s Seed had been placed.

It was nowhere to be found.

Brown fragments were scattered across the bed.

Looking at the sprout atop the child’s head, I had a rough idea of what had happened, but without concrete evidence, I couldn’t be certain.

"Burp."

While I was racking my brain, the child let out an unexpected burp. Startled, I turned to look at them.

Closer inspection revealed brown fragments clinging to the corners of their mouth, as though they had been snacking on something.

The moment I saw that, I came to a swift conclusion. All the evidence pointed to it.

Like the myth of Park Hyeokgeose’s birth, this child had emerged from the World Tree’s Seed. Either they ate the seed while coming out, or they consumed it afterward.

What a sturdy set of teeth and gums this child must have. Luminous had said the seed was harder than steel, yet they’d eaten it entirely. Imagine getting bitten by this kid—it would be game over.

Shaking off the thought, I carefully wiped the crumbs from the child’s mouth. It felt like the least I could do.

"Mm."

The child accepted my touch without resistance, their semi-transparent wings fluttering faintly.

Who exactly was this child, with their wings and the sprout atop their head?

It was too soon to call them an angel—the sprout made that clear. If they had a halo, I might have panicked.

"Hey, you."
"Mm?"

When I cautiously called out, the child blinked and babbled in response. They looked like a three-year-old, down to their features.

And they were a girl, I realized upon closer examination.

"Who are you?"
"Mm?"
"Did you come out of the seed Hirt gave me?"
"Mm?"

No matter how many questions I asked, the child only babbled. Frustrated, I scratched my head and glanced behind me.

Still no sign of movement. Whether it was due to last night’s intensity or just her deep sleep, Arwen was oblivious to the world.

Under normal circumstances, I’d let her sleep. But right now, I needed to wake her.

"Arwen."
"..."
"Arwen. Please wake up for a moment."
"Mm..."

I gently shook her, and like me earlier, she scrunched her eyes shut before slowly opening them.

Her beautiful silver-gray eyes emerged as she rubbed them with both hands.

I waited silently with the child until she fully woke up. The child, too, was quietly waiting.

"Mm..."

Swish.

Arwen sat up, pulling the blanket up to cover her chest. Her bare, snow-white skin was enough to take one’s breath away.

"Yawn..."

After letting out a hearty yawn, she smacked her lips and opened her eyes, still drowsy.

Her gaze, now fully awake, fell on me—and then the child.

She blinked several times, alternating between looking at me and the child.

"...Huh?"

Her reaction was as expected, given the unbelievable situation.

"When did we have a child?"
"Mm?"

But the words she spoke next were anything but expected.

***

It took Arwen a moment to fully grasp the situation.

Given that she hadn’t woken up on her own but was forced awake by me, she was still struggling to distinguish between dream and reality.

In fact, she seemed convinced it was all a dream, hugging the child tightly and gently stroking their head.

The child, far from resisting, nestled into Arwen’s embrace and even rubbed their face against her chest.

“W-Who is this child? And what’s with the wings on their back...!”

Of course, once she realized it wasn’t a dream but reality, she was utterly horrified—especially upon seeing the translucent wings sprouting from the child’s back. Her reaction, as she rubbed her eyes repeatedly as though she had seen a mythical creature, was priceless.

To be honest, her reaction was far more normal than my calm response.

After all, angels, unlike demons, were beings that only existed in old records. Since the demon wars, there hasn’t been a single verified sighting of an angel on Earth.

And yet, here was a child, bearing a striking resemblance to her husband, sitting on her bed. A child with a tiny sprout on their head, no less.

“Baah!”

Oblivious to our astonishment, the child began tugging at Arwen’s blanket. If the child succeeded, her body would be entirely exposed.

Arwen, aware of this, fought back with all her might to keep the blanket in place. Surprisingly, the child’s strength was immense, and Arwen was visibly struggling.

“H-How can you be this strong? Let go right now!”
“Baah!”

The child, seemingly enjoying Arwen’s flustered state, only pulled harder.

Fearing that things would spiral further out of control, I decided to step in and help.

Gently, I placed my hands under the child’s arms and lifted them up. The child immediately released the blanket and turned their gaze to me.

“You shouldn’t do that. Arwen doesn’t like it.”
“Mm?”

The child tilted their head in confusion, the sprout on top of their head swaying faintly.

I sat the child on my lap and gently stroked their hair. It was far softer and shinier than mine, glimmering as if sprinkled with gold dust.

Looking at them now, it was hard not to think they were an angel straight out of the records.

“Nom, nom, nom.”

As I stroked their head, the child began gnawing on a lock of my long hair.

It seemed they were hungry, but my immediate priority was to stop them.

“Ah-ah, no eating hair. That’s a no-no.”
“Mm?”
“Spit it out, now.”

When I pulled at my hair, the child obediently opened their mouth. What I saw left me dumbfounded.

A large chunk of my hair had been cleanly bitten off.

Hair isn’t something that can be easily cut without sharp tools like scissors or knives. Yet this child had managed to do it with just their teeth.

Just who—or what—was this child? Their wings suggested they might be some kind of angel, but the sprout on their head complicated things.

And then, there was another question.

‘What am I supposed to do about this?’

Setting aside the mystery of their identity, figuring out how to handle them was the real challenge.

Anyone who saw us together would undoubtedly think we were parent and child. The red hair, the golden eyes—it was undeniable.

Even if one ignored the pointed elf-like ears, the sprout on their head, or the translucent wings, their resemblance to me was unmistakable. Most would assume their mother contributed the elf-like traits.

“...”
“W-Why are you looking at me like that?”

And the elf in question was sitting right in front of me.

Elves are widely known as descendants of angels. If, by some chance, that lineage manifested in this child, the translucent wings would make sense.

As for the sprout... well, given that they emerged from the World Tree’s Seed, it wasn’t entirely out of the question.

One thing was clear:

The child’s parents were, without a doubt, me and Arwen.

How, when, or where this genetic material had been obtained was a mystery beyond my comprehension.

“...Hey, kid?”
“Mm?”
“Do you know who your mom is?”

Even though they probably wouldn’t understand, I asked anyway, just in case.

The child blinked their golden eyes at my question before turning their head to look at Arwen.

Then, with their tiny hand, they pointed straight at her and confidently declared:

“Mama!”
“M-Mama, me?”
“Mama!”

Despite having just been born, they correctly identified “Mama.” While Arwen stammered in disbelief, I moved on to my next question.

Though this one was almost redundant—anyone could see the child was my spitting image.

“...Then who’s your dad?”
“Dada!”

The child didn’t hesitate for a second, pointing at me.

I nodded, already resigned to the inevitable conclusion.

I’d have to go to the temple and demand answers, but one thing was already crystal clear:

‘I’m screwed.’

I could only imagine the chaos this would cause if Mary saw the child.

‘I’m completely screwed.’

It didn’t take a genius to predict what would happen. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel a little wronged—it was the gods who put me in this mess.

With a helpless smile, I stroked the child’s head. For now, I’d focus on sorting out the situation and explaining everything as calmly as possible.

Even if I was still completely screwed.

“Jo... Jo...”
“Mm?”
“Jooooob?”
“...”

Somehow, I felt even more screwed.