Reborn In A Perverse Monster World! My System Adapts To Everything!

Chapter 129: Father And Daughter

Jason carried the baby through the barrier, his steps light, his heart full. The infant cooed softly in his arms, her tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb, her mismatched eyes blinking up at him with innocent curiosity.

Tauriel followed behind him, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. She had prepared herself for rejection, for hostility, for the cold anger she had seen in Jason’s eyes during their last encounter. She had expected him to perceive her as an enemy, to remind her of all the pain she had caused him, of the mark she had placed on Thalion’s neck, of the chaos she had unleashed.

But Jason did not care.

The moment he had seen the child, everything melted away. The tension in his shoulders, the hardness in his eyes, the guarded wariness that had become second nature to him—all of it vanished. He had looked at the baby, and his entire world had shifted.

Now, he was speaking to her in baby language, his voice soft and playful, his grin wide and genuine.

"Who’s a beautiful girl? You are! Yes, you are!" he cooed, bouncing the infant gently.

The baby giggled, a sound so pure and joyful that it made Tauriel’s chest ache. She had never seen Jason like this—so relaxed, so happy, so utterly at peace.

Tauriel’s mind raced. She had been prepared for a fight, but instead, she was being welcomed with open arms. She thought about the past—the dungeon, the torture, the mark on Thalion’s neck, the chaos she had caused. She had done terrible things to him. She had used him, manipulated him, tried to trap him in a web of her own making.

And yet, here he was, cradling her child like she was the most precious thing in the world.

"How can he forgive me so easily?"

The answer came to her as she watched him interact with the baby. Jason had become something more than human. He was no longer the man she had met in the castle. He was a force of nature, a being of immense power who could kill her where she stood without even blinking an eye.

If it came down to strength, she was nowhere compared to him. And yet, he chose kindness.

They passed through the barrier, and Tauriel noticed how it was similar to the one back in the elven kingdom—but improved. Stronger. More refined. The shimmering wall of energy hummed with a power that made her own mana feel insignificant.

"He built this?"

She did not say it out loud, but the thought lingered in her mind. Jason had not only survived; he had thrived. He had created a sanctuary, a place of safety and peace, far from the chaos of the Marrow.

Jason continued speaking to the baby, oblivious to Tauriel’s internal turmoil. The infant smiled and laughed, her tiny hands reaching for his face.

Jason was genuinely happy.

Tauriel’s heart swelled. She had spent centuries searching for power, for control, for the perfect mage. She had tortured and killed and schemed to achieve her goals. And now, she realized that none of it mattered.

This moment—this simple, peaceful moment—was worth more than all the power in the world.

But as they approached the cottage, Tauriel saw two figures standing in the doorway.

Ylva and Mae.

Ylva’s expression shifted from curiosity to cold recognition the moment she saw Tauriel.

Tauriel’s steps slowed. Her body tensed. She had known this moment would come.

This is where the problem will lie.

-

Thalion sat in the center of his headquarters, his massive frame reduced to humanoid size. The ability had come naturally with Maldred’s body—a flexibility that allowed him to shift between forms depending on the situation. When he needed to intimidate, he could grow to his full towering height. When he needed to blend in, he could shrink to the size of an average man.

Today, he chose to be small.

It was easier to think in this form. Easier to feel gounded. Easier to remember who he had been before the dungeon, before the torture, before the darkness had tried to consume him.

Thalion had become something of a pacifist.

He no longer outright chose violence. Every creature, every monster, every enemy that crossed his path was given the same option: surrender or face the consequences. He had learned, through trial and error, that mercy was not weakness. It was strength tempered by wisdom.

But some creatures tried to use his mercy as a weapon.

They would pretend to surrender, only to attack when his guard was down. They would beg for forgiveness, only to plot his destruction. They would offer false promises, only to betray him at the first opportunity.

Thalion did not kill them.

He consumed their souls.

Not to empower himself—he had no need for more power. He consumed them to imprison them, to bind them within his body where they could not harm anyone else. His body served as a prison, a vessel of repentance where the wicked could reflect on their sins for as long as he deemed necessary.

Some had been trapped for days. Others for months. A few had managed to repent, and Thalion had released them back into their bodies, giving them a second chance at life.

But most remained.

The faction he had built, the Marrow’s Judgement, had grown steadily over the past few months. Under his command were three orders, each composed of varying races, each serving a distinct purpose.

The first order was the Vanguard of the Fallen. They were the scouts, the hunters, the ones who ventured into the darkest corners of the world to root out threats before they could grow. Led by a scarred orc named Kael, they were relentless and efficient, their loyalty to Thalion absolute.

The second order was the Custodians of the Void. They were the keepers of knowledge, the recorders of history, the ones who documented every battle, every victory, every soul consumed. Led by a blind elf named Sylvan, they were the memory of the faction, ensuring that nothing was forgotten.

The third order was the Heralds of Repentance. They were the diplomats, the negotiators, the ones who offered the choice of surrender before violence became necessary. Led by a serpentine creature named Zephyra, they were calm and persuasive, their words as sharp as any blade.

Kael entered Thalion’s chamber, his scarred face grim. He knelt and bowed his head.

"Commander," he said, his voice rough. "The next crawl is upon us. Reports indicate something strange is occurring in the region. Creatures that should not be there. Magic that should not exist."

Thalion’s eyes narrowed. "Strange how?"

"Unnatural," Kael replied. "The earth is bleeding. The sky is weeping. And there are whispers of something ancient awakening beneath the surface."

Thalion was silent for a moment. Then he nodded.

"We will investigate," he said. "But first, we need to eat and rest. A tired army is a dead army."

Kael bowed again and left.

Thalion sat alone in the darkness, his thoughts heavy.

Something was coming, there has been strange irregularities these past couple of months as well.