A/N: Thank you so much for the warm reviews, kuroshiragami0, Guest(s), and Liraangela Garcia (My heart is full. Thanks.)! And to the new reader who followed, I appreciate your support.

To all readers: This is a short update, but I hope you'll appreciate this chapter. Thank you, and happy reading.

Two centuries ago

Irene barely remembered how she felt after the first time she had seen herself in the eyes of her own daughter. Erza had been so small, so fragile, against her cold, trembling hands. Irene had been consumed by hatred burning through her veins like poison, and she had believed that ending her daughter's life was the only way to sever the painful ties to her past and odious mistake of bearing a child of her sworn enemies. For falling in love with a Belserion. For loving someone from the lineage that ruined her life and ended her parents' lives.

"Die, you monster. That cursed blood running in your veins killed my entire family." She said as she attempted to tighten her grip on her neck.

However, as her daughter's life slipped between her fingers as she tightened her bare hands around the infant's tiny neck, something stirred deep within her. Something she hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the sobs that were clawing their way up her throat, her entire body trembling as she recalled a memory briefly.

Flashback

"What are your plans after the war?" the black-haired knight asked.

"I haven't thought much about it," she admitted, her eyes distant as if lost in the very thoughts she was speaking of. "I've always been consumed by my own thoughts of ending the empire, of seeking justice for everything that was taken from me."

She paused for a long moment, the silence between them heavy with tension. Her fingers traced the cover of the book she had been reading as he unbraided her hair. The knight's hands were gentle as he worked through the strands.

"But I think," she began again as though she was carefully selecting each word. "After everything... I want to become a mother."

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned to face him, her eyes meeting his eyes full of warmth. Slowly, he reached up to undo the braid that held her hair in place, letting the long strands fall freely around her shoulders.

"I lost my family at a very young age," she recalled as memories of her past flooded back. Her breath hitched slightly as she continued, "So I wanted to build my own family, perhaps after the war, and raise a child of my own, free from this conflict."

"With you," she added after pausing for a few seconds.

The knight paused, his hands still tangled in her hair. He looked at her with an expression softened by something she couldn't quite name. There was a tenderness in his gaze and a hint of something like a flicker of concern or anxiety if she described it.

When she looked into the baby's eyes again, it wasn't the reflection of her hatred that stared back at her. Instead, she saw something pure, something innocent. It wasn't the face of her sworn enemy she was holding in her hands, but the face of a child—her child. And in that moment, she saw herself. The small, terrified child that she had once been trapped in a world of cruelty. She had become one of them. One of those abhorrent beings she detested. She was more of a monster herself than those of Belserion blood if she ended this innocent life before her. Her daughter. Her own blood and flesh. The realization hit her, and she felt the icy grip of her anger loosen, replaced by a wave of guilt that nearly brought her to her knees.

"I-I can't… k-kill her," Irene choked out.

Her knees buckled, and she slumped to the floor, her hands slipping away from Erza's neck. "I can't…" she whispered again, her tears falling freely.

Soon, the child's color returned as air flooded back into her system. Her small chest heaved with each gasp, and her eyes fluttered open. A faint whimper escaped her lips as she struggled to breathe, and Irene, still on her knees, stared at her daughter's face with an overwhelming relief.

"My p-poor daughter," Irene bawled.

"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," Irene whispered as she pressed her lips to Erza's forehead, her tears mingling with those of her child. She clutched Erza tighter to her chest, her hands trembling as she caressed her daughter's face, trying to imprint every detail into her memory. The softness of her skin, the warmth of her small body, the sound of her cries, all reminders of the life she had almost extinguished in a moment of blind rage.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, forgive me," Irene cried.

"I will burn everything to ashes so that no one will remember it existed,"

The words she had once spat out with venom now tasted like a sweet poison on her lips. She wasn't sure why Charteris would burn the kingdom to its ashes, but she knew he was a capricious being, something calculated but fickle at times when his emotions would blind his reasons. She somehow felt satisfied seeing them pitied against each other as she stood among the ashes of the previously known intelligence hub of the empire. Whatever Pergrande did to get on Charteris's nerves and turn them into traitors in the narrative of his ploy, they deserved it. They had their hands tainted with blood after turning their back on their comrades and leaving them beheaded for the sake of gold and glory. Irene thought to herself as she watched the stark emptiness of the once-thriving capital of the kingdom.

In the folds of her black cloak, she cradled the small child closer to her chest as she heard the faint whimper of her daughter. The tiny sound seemed to pierce through the silence of the desolate landscape. She instinctively tried to soothe her, her hand gently brushing the child's cheek, urging her to remain quiet as the distant sounds of movement reached her ears.

"Lady Irene," a voice called from behind as Sieghart emerged from the shadows

"According to the informants, there were no signs of the black-haired knight you described. Only Charteris returned to the empire, and he has since delegated the subjugation of the rebel guilds to the second prince," he reported.

"Even if you were to meet again, he will not recognize you as you are, Irene. Since the necklace was lost, it is impossible for you to prove that your child is his and that you are Zera." Ur added, seeing Irene still lost in her thoughts as her back still turned against them.

Slowly, Irene turned to face Ur and Sieghart. The name Zera felt distant now, almost like a memory from another lifetime. She was no longer that woman. No longer the woman that the deceitful Belserion loved. The truth of their words stung, but she knew they were right. She looked down at her daughter; she knew that the child in her arms was a part of that past. Linked to him. Linked to the bloodline, she cursed and despised. She wanted to bury everything along with her identity as Zera. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to sever that connection. Her daughter, the proof of her own tie to the man she had once loved, the man who had once shown her a glimpse of a life beyond the bloodshed. Her daughter, their daughter, remained in her arms. She shook her head as she steeled herself. Erza has nothing to do with them. She is my daughter, my own blood and flesh. She thought as she recalled another memory once more.

"Are you willing to settle down with me?" His voice had trembled slightly, a rare vulnerability she hadn't recognized in time.

"I want you to stop participating in the resistance group against the empire. I want us to have a life together, to get married-"

She closed her eyes as regret settled heavily on her heart. If only she had allowed herself to listen, to hear the fear and concern behind his words instead of being consumed by her own thirst for vengeance. If only she had let him reason with her, perhaps she wouldn't have lost everything that mattered. But she was too blinded by rage, too obsessed with her own revenge, to see the truth in his actions. Had he known she was pregnant? Was that why he had asked her to leave the resistance, to build a life away from the chaos and bloodshed? Or had it all been a ruse, a ploy to manipulate her for his own ends? The uncertainty bewildered her, the questions unanswered and perhaps unanswerable.

Maybe the reason why he had given her the ledger, the one that held the intelligence needed to cripple the empire's hold, was to help her in the rebellion. Was it a silent gesture of support? The conflicting thoughts swirled within her. She didn't know which version of events was true, whether he had genuinely loved her or simply used her as a pawn in a larger game.

But there was one thing she knew with absolute certainty: the small, fragile life she now held in her arms was the only thing that mattered. As she looked down at her child once more, it didn't matter what the truth was any more or whether she would ever find the closure she sought. What mattered now was the life she had brought into the world. Her daughter. Her hope and redemption. The child was her second chance in life.

A few months later

Despite Erza growing to resemble her more with each passing day, Irene noticed one distinct trait that her daughter had inherited from her father. It was her stark adoration for her hair. Even as a tiny infant of five months, Erza would often reach out with her small, curious hands, clumsily attempting to untie Irene's long, braided locks. Irene couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's endearing actions. The sight of Erza rolling on her hair and giggling as it tickled her filled Irene's heart with an overwhelming sense of warmth. It was in those moments, with her daughter's laughter filling the room, that Irene found a semblance of peace. The darkness of her past and the demons she kept inside her faded into oblivion.

Years later

In the coldest cave of the snowy mountains of Zonia, Irene slumped to her knees, clutching the burnt white clothing that had once belonged to her daughter. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped it tightly, the fabric crumpled and singed from the fire that had taken away everything she held dear. Tears streamed down her face.

"Why can't you help me revive her, Sieghart?" Irene's voice trembled.

Irene's world had already crumbled the day she lost Erza in the fire. The fire of life that had once driven her forward had been extinguished, leaving only a hollow shell in its place. The cold wind whipped through the cave, chilling her to the bone, but she felt nothing. All she could feel was the emptiness inside her, the overwhelming sense of loss that crushed her spirit.

"Perhaps... can you kill me?" Irene's voice cracked as she sobbed uncontrollably. She wanted to end it all, to escape the unbearable pain that had taken hold of her heart.

But Sieghart couldn't bring himself to answer. The silence between them was numbing. At that moment, Irene felt truly alone, and her world was reduced to ashes. The mountains seemed to mirror the cold emptiness within her soul. All she wanted was to end her suffering, to find peace in the darkness that had consumed her. But even that, it seemed, was beyond her reach.

Present

The sight of witnessing her own failure, resulting in Erza's death right before her eyes again, felt like dying a death that left her alive in the cruelest way possible. It was a torment beyond reason, an agony so overwhelming that it defied description.

"I'm not sure if you'll remember any of this when you wake up,"

She wished she could forget the dream that had clawed its way into her consciousness, the one that brought back all her lost memories. Seeing Erza accept her death and telling her not to be guilty about it twisted her heart inside out. It was a dream she hated that now made it impossible for her to accept reality.

Opening her eyes, she found herself on the shore, the vast sky stretching endlessly above her. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore mirrored the turmoil in her heart. Despite her unconsciousness, her eyes were still stained with tears. It felt like a dagger was twisting in her heart, each twist more painful than the last. She closed her eyes once more, hoping to slip back into the numbness of oblivion, but instead, she felt another hot tear graze her cheek.

"M-mommy, wake up." The familiar voice pierced through the haze of her sorrow, making her snap her eyes open.

When she tilted her head slightly, she saw Erza's tear-streaked face, her small hands clutching at her tattered cloak as she cried into her mother's chest.

"E-Erza?" Irene's voice trembled with disbelief as she gazed at her daughter, who was weeping with tears streaming down both cheeks. It was the first time both of her eyes shed tears.

"Mommy?" Erza asked, lifting her head to see Irene.

Irene's eyes widened as she met Erza's small brown orbs. She couldn't breathe for a moment, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. With trembling hands, she cupped her daughter's cheeks, feeling the warmth of her skin against her palms.

"Mama!" Erza cried as she turned into Irene's arms, burying her face in her mother's chest.

Irene's mouth went agape, still not fully grasping the reality of the situation. She held her daughter close, her hands shaking as they rubbed Erza's back in soothing circles. She couldn't stop the tears from spilling over as she clung to her daughter, afraid that if she let go, this moment would vanish like a cruel illusion.

"Please, let this be real...not just another illusion..." she whispered.

She couldn't bring herself to close her eyes, afraid that if she did, Erza would vanish like a cruel mirage. The fear of losing her daughter again was gripping her heart with icy fingers. Every fiber of her being was focused on holding Erza close as if the strength of her embrace could keep her anchored to reality. But the tears came anyway, blurring her vision, making it impossible to see clearly. Irene squeezed her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop the tears. When she finally opened her eyes again, her heart skipped a beat in fear, but then she felt it: the undeniable presence of her daughter still nestled in her embrace. Erza hadn't disappeared. She was real, alive, and safe in her arms. The reality of it all began to sink in. Her daughter was alive. Irene let out a shaky breath, her tears now flowing freely, but this time, they were tears of overwhelming joy and relief. She buried her face in Erza's hair, inhaling the familiar scent, feeling the warmth of her daughter's body against hers. After a while, Irene loosened her embrace slightly, just enough to see her daughter's tear-streaked face. She gently wiped Erza's tears away with her hand, her touch tender as she tried to calm her.

"Does it hurt anywhere, Erza?" Irene asked softly, her voice trembling with concern as she held Erza's small hand in hers.

"No, mommy. It doesn't hurt anymore." Erza answered.

Irene sighed in relief. Glancing sideways, she noticed two cloaked mages on the other side of the shore, one crying while the other consoled them.

"Irene," a voice called beside her. She flinched, turning to see Charteris standing there, his once silver hair now black and all his holy magic drained from his mana.

"The spell worked," Charteris smiled, watching as Erza turned to hug Irene again.

Irene's lips trembled as she absorbed the truth. She had saved her daughter. After all the anguish and years of torment, she had found her redemption. She hugged Erza tighter, burying her face in her daughter's hair. The relief was overwhelming, washing over her like a tide, cleansing the wounds that had festered in her soul. In that embrace, she felt the heavy burden she had carried for so long begins to lift. Finally, she had done something right—finally, she had managed to save her daughter.

"You saved her," Charteris spoke, making Irene sob.

"I saved her," Irene whispered as she held her tighter.

A/N: Our babies had been through a lot. OmO. Please leave some reviews; I love reading them. Thank you, and I will see you in my next update. Bye!