Chapter 393: Damaged
Rory held Terry tightly in her arms, utterly overwhelmed by a rush of pure joy and disbelief.
The little boy was soft, warm, and so adorably chubby that every line of his tiny body seemed deliberately designed to melt hearts. Her own heart was already in imminent danger of dissolving into a puddle.
"Terry, when did you grow up?" she breathed, stunned. When she was coming here just now, this was the last thing she expected to see.
"Just now," the little boy answered brightly, almost laughing from happiness.
He snuggled deeper into her embrace, rubbing his cheek affectionately against the curve of her neck.
"Mother, I missed you so much while I was sleeping. I dreamed about you every single day."
Tilting his head back, he gazed up at her with enormous blue eyes brimming with sweet anticipation. "Did Mother miss Terry too?"
"Of course I did," Rory whispered, hugging him tighter as a wave of unbearable tenderness swelled in her chest.
Her baby... He was simply too precious. Was this really the little fruit she had nurtured and grown herself? How could he possibly be this cute?
She looked down at his plump little arms and legs, soft and pale like freshly peeled lotus roots, practically begging to be squeezed.
And those eyes—clear as crystal, without a single speck of impurity, filled entirely with unconditional trust and dependence.
Then there was that soft, childish voice; every word sounded as though it had been dipped in honey. This was her child. Her own baby. A life forever connected to her by blood and soul.
She still had a hard time believing all of this was real.
Nearby, Lian watched Rory showering Terry with affection before glancing sideways at Yuel, whose expression remained deeply complicated.
"So," Lian murmured, his voice dropping to a low undertone. "What are you going to do now? Mistress is here."
He nodded toward Rory, then shifted his eyes to Terry. "Do you still plan to erase his inherited memories? I don’t think it’s gonna be so easy now..."
Given how much Rory clearly adored the little boy, Lian highly doubted she would readily agree to do something this drastic.
After a brief silence, he added, "Honestly, your son seems fully aware that something is wrong with his inheritance."
A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes as his gaze lingered on the child. "He’s quite the actor. The way he’s behaving in front of Mistress is completely different from how he was acting earlier."
Lian understood Yuel’s concerns. The inherited memories had shaped Terry into something unusual—something dark that might frighten Rory if she saw it.
Yuel had likely wanted to purge those memories before they could damage the fragile bond between mother and child.
But now, watching Terry curled so happily and harmlessly in Rory’s arms, Lian wasn’t so certain of any of that. Inherited memories were invaluable to every beastman, and removing them came at a tremendous cost.
Perhaps things weren’t entirely beyond saving. Perhaps Rory was the clue to fixing everything.
Yuel remained silent. He simply watched—watched Rory, watched Terry, and watched the very scene he had feared he might never live to see.
Meanwhile, the fog of Rory’s excitement began to clear enough for her to notice something crucial: her son was completely naked.
"Terry!"
She quickly accessed her storage space and pulled out a soft cloak. The fabric was several sizes too large, but it wrapped around the little boy comfortably.
Once she had him properly covered, she looked up at Yuel. Still carrying Terry, she walked directly toward him, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"If Terry woke up, why didn’t you tell me?" There was a distinct trace of accusation in her voice. "What’s going on? Why did you call Lian instead?"
If she hadn’t accidentally caught a fleeting glimpse of Yuel’s name on Lian’s communicator earlier, she would never have discovered any of this.
As she spoke, Rory looked down at the child in her arms, a sudden spike of anxiety piercing through her.
Could something be wrong with Terry’s health? Was that why Yuel had secretly summoned a doctor? And if yes, then how serious was it?
Yuel’s gaze lingered heavily on Terry. The little boy looked entirely innocent and harmless nestled against Rory’s chest, yet Yuel knew exactly what sharp edge lay beneath the surface. For the first time in a very long while, a rare flash of nervousness appeared in his eyes.
"Rory..." His voice was quieter, more strained than usual. "I’m sorry."
He paused, a complicated expression crossing his features. "Terry just woke up, and... something happened. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you." His fingers tightened slightly at his side. "I just didn’t want you to worry. I wanted to solve the problem first, then tell you."
Rory’s heart immediately clenched. There was a problem. Her arms tightened instinctively around Terry, shielding him. "What happened to him?" She looked back and forth between father and son. "What’s wrong with Terry?"
Before Yuel could answer, a small, calm voice spoke up from her arms.
"Mother."
Terry looked up at her, his expression remarkably composed. "My inherited memories are damaged."
Rory blinked, stunned. "What?"
The little boy continued in the exact same matter-of-fact tone. "I inherited Daddy’s memories."
The room grew noticeably quieter, the air turning heavy. Terry leaned back comfortably against her shoulder, his deep-blue eyes shifting briefly, almost calculatingly, toward Yuel. "The memories are very dark. Daddy is worried they’ll affect my personality."
Then he looked back at Rory, speaking as though they were discussing something entirely ordinary, completely unfazed by the fact that he was revealing a secret that had terrified his father from the moment it was discovered.
And in that quiet moment, for the very first time, Rory noticed something deeply unusual. For a child who had only recently taken human form, Terry spoke far too clearly. Far too logically. Far too maturely.
The realization made her heart skip a beat.