[2] Peaceful Life

The fire crackled softly, casting warm, flickering shadows across the small café. The night air outside was cool, but inside, the warmth of the hearth made it a cozy sanctuary.

Callian leaned against the wooden counter, arms crossed, watching as his little daughter sleepily rubbed her eyes. Violet, dressed in her soft white nightgown, shuffled toward him, clutching the hem of his sleeve with tiny fingers.

"Papa…" she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness.

Callian knelt slightly to her level. "Hm?"

"The kitty…" she yawned, "…sleep with me?"

He glanced toward the corner of the room. The massive, dark-furred beast lay curled up on a blanket, its glowing red eyes half-lidded in defeat. It looked… miserable. Probably because it was a high-ranking demonic wolf that had been forcibly tamed by a single head pat and a quiet, but terrifying, warning from Callian.

He turned back to Violet and nodded. "Of course."

A bright, sleepy smile bloomed on her face as she tugged him toward her small bed in the back room. The "kitty" trudged after them, its tail swishing low to the ground as if resigning itself to this strange fate.

The adventurer, still seated at the counter, didn't even react anymore. He just watched the absurdity unfold, his face devoid of emotion. What was he even supposed to say at this point?

—

Inside the dimly lit bedroom, Violet nestled under the covers, snuggling close to the demonic wolf's thick fur. It let out a low, defeated whine but made no effort to move. Callian sat beside the bed, gently brushing a stray silver lock from her face.

He never got tired of looking at her.

Her violet eyes were already drooping, heavy with sleep. She had his eyes. Not the golden ones from his awakened past life, but the ones from before—when he was still an ordinary man. Violet eyes.

It was strange, wasn't it? Julianna had blonde hair and blue eyes. He had black hair and golden eyes. Yet their daughter had silver hair and violet eyes.

Callian didn't think too deeply about it.

To him, Violet was simply his daughter. That was all that mattered.

He let out a soft breath, reaching out to lightly pat her head. "Sleep well, little one."

Violet let out a tiny hum. "Papa… sing…"

His lips curled slightly. "A lullaby?"

She nodded, already half-asleep.

Callian exhaled softly and began to hum—a slow, gentle tune from a life long gone. His voice was quiet, deep, and steady, filling the room with a soothing warmth.

The demonic wolf stilled, its ears twitching slightly at the sound.

The adventurer, who had been eavesdropping from outside the doorway, felt an inexplicable chill. This was the same man who casually subdued a monster with his bare hands?

Within moments, Violet's breathing evened out, her tiny hands curling into the wolf's fur. Callian watched her for a long moment before standing up, tucking the blanket securely around her.

He walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

—

Back at the counter, the adventurer finally broke his silence. "…That noblewoman really left her behind?"

Callian didn't even glance at him as he poured himself a glass of water. "Yes."

The adventurer hesitated. "And you… don't resent her for it?"

Callian chuckled. It was a quiet, almost amused sound. "Why would I?"

"…She abandoned your daughter."

He took a slow sip of water, his golden eyes calm. "She made a choice. I made mine."

The adventurer frowned. "She left you both for another man."

Callian finally looked at him. His gaze wasn't angry or bitter—it was indifferent.

"It was just a one-night stand," he said simply. "She had no obligation to stay."

The adventurer fell silent. He had expected… well, something. Anger. Regret. Even the smallest hint of resentment. But there was nothing.

Callian didn't care.

Not about Julianna. Not about what she chose to do.

Because, in the end—

He got to keep Violet.

And that, to him, was the best possible outcome.

—

Later that night, Callian stepped outside, looking up at the sky. The stars twinkled brightly, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting.

He didn't know where he was. He had known from the moment he arrived that this wasn't Earth. The air smelled different. The world felt different. And the power inside him—the strength that had once belonged to an awakened hunter—was still his, unrestrained by the rules of his previous life.

But none of that mattered.

No Hunter Association. No fame. No responsibilities weighing him down.

Just him and Violet, living simple days in their quiet little café.

A slow, content smile tugged at his lips.

For the first time in both of his lives—

He was truly happy.

*****

Callian still remembered the day she left.

The sun had barely risen when Julianna stood in front of him, her delicate hands trembling, her blue eyes filled with horror. Her golden hair, which had once reminded him of sunlight, now felt cold—like the distant glow of a star too far to warm him.

"You…" Her voice cracked. "You're just a commoner."

Callian blinked.

It wasn't news to him. He had been a commoner all his life. Sure, he had the skills of an S-rank hunter and had fought monsters strong enough to be called walking disasters, but at the end of the day, he had no noble blood, no family crest, nothing that would make him worthy in the eyes of a highborn lady.

Julianna's fingers curled, her body stiff with something between anger and disgust. Then—

Slap!

The sound echoed in the quiet morning air. Callian barely felt it. Compared to the claws of an elder wyvern or the blade of a high-level assassin, it was nothing more than a mosquito bite.

But the meaning behind it? That, he understood.

Julianna was horrified.

Not because she had shared a night with him. Not because she had given birth to a child.

No—she was horrified because Violet, the tiny baby wrapped in a soft blanket in Callian's arms, was living proof of it. Proof that she, a noblewoman, had lain with a man she deemed unworthy.

"I can't do this," she whispered. Her voice shook, but she didn't take back her words.

Callian remained silent.

"I have a future to think of. I have someone else. Someone I truly love." She lifted her chin, regaining some of her noble arrogance. "Take her. Do whatever you want with her. I don't care."

She turned. Walked away. Never looked back.

The wind was cold that morning.

Callian glanced down at the small bundle in his arms. Violet wiggled slightly, her silver hair shining in the early light. A tiny yawn escaped her lips, and she smacked them together, half-asleep.

She was warm.

Callian shifted his grip, cradling her closer.

"Guess it's just us now, huh?"

Violet hiccupped.

Callian took that as agreement.

—

Raising a child was much, much harder than fighting an S-rank gate.

Callian had faced monstrous beasts, outwitted cunning enemies, and survived life-threatening dungeons. He had once been chased across an entire city by a berserk warlord who wanted to rip out his spine.

None of that compared to the nightmare of raising a baby alone.

At first, he thought, How hard can it be? She just needed food, warmth, and sleep, right?

He quickly realized he had no idea how to make baby food. Or what kind of milk to buy. Or how to properly hold her when she cried at night.

The first time he tried changing her diaper, he gagged so hard he nearly passed out.

The first time she got sick, he almost marched into a priest's temple and demanded they use resurrection magic because surely this tiny, fragile thing wasn't meant to survive in this world.

The first time she called him Papa, he froze.

Then melted.

Then let her eat three whole honey pastries, which was a mistake because she spent the next few hours bouncing off the walls like a possessed rabbit.

—

By the time Violet was six, Callian had a much better grip on parenting.

…Or so he thought.

"Violet, come here," he called from the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew. "It's bath time."

Silence.

A bad sign.

Callian set down the spoon and turned. "Violet?"

No answer.

He sighed. "You can't hide forever. I'll find you eventually."

Still no response.

Callian rubbed his temple. He had fought shadow assassins with better hiding skills than this.

Checking under the table? Empty.

Behind the counter? Nothing.

Inside the flour sack?

…Wait.

With a knowing look, Callian crouched beside the storage cabinet and knocked gently on the wooden door.

No movement.

Then—

A quiet giggle.

Callian smirked.

"Well, I suppose she's disappeared," he said dramatically. "What a shame. I guess I'll have to give her bathwater to someone else. Like…" He tapped his chin. "Oh! Maybe Mister Fluffy wants a bath instead!"

From inside the cabinet, there was a gasp.

A second later, the door burst open, revealing a tiny girl with silver hair and wide violet eyes. She clutched a stuffed wolf in her arms, horrified.

"No! Mister Fluffy doesn't like baths!"

"Oh? But he was rolling in the dirt earlier," Callian said solemnly. "He's all stinky now."

Violet frowned. She turned to the stuffed wolf, whispering, "Are you stinky?"

Callian took the chance to scoop her up, spinning her around before she could react.

Violet shrieked. "Nooo!"

"Yes," Callian said firmly. "It's bath time."

"I hate baths!" she declared, wiggling like a fish.

"You hated vegetables last week too, but you still ate them," Callian pointed out, walking toward the bathroom.

"That's different!"

"How so?"

"Vegetables don't try to drown me!"

Callian laughed. "Violet, the water isn't trying to drown you."

"It feels like it!"

"You say that every time."

"And I mean it every time!"

Callian shook his head, pushing open the bathroom door. "Alright, alright. What if I let you bring Mister Fluffy with you?"

Violet narrowed her eyes. "…Can he have his own towel?"

"Fine."

"His own soap?"

Callian sighed. "You're pushing it."

"Okay, okay." Violet pouted but allowed herself to be set down. "Only because Mister Fluffy stinks."

"Of course," Callian agreed.

He helped her into the bath, careful with the temperature. As he scrubbed her hair, Violet hummed happily, splashing a little.

"You know, Papa," she said, tilting her head, "you look really scary when you fight monsters, but you're not scary at all."

Callian paused. "…I don't?"

Violet shook her head, silver strands clinging to her cheeks. "Nope! You're warm. Like the sun."

Something in Callian's chest tightened.

Warm.

Not powerful. Not strong. Not legendary.

Warm.

He smiled. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Yup!" Violet beamed. "I like it when Papa is warm."

Callian ruffled her hair.

In the end, it didn't matter if the world saw him as an S-rank monster hunter, a terrifying warrior, or a mysterious figure in the Forest of Death.

To Violet, he was just her father.

And that was enough.