Riku and Alice chattered away, deep in discussion, their faces eventually mirroring one another with the same devious, belly-black smiles.
And then?
Life went on as usual.
Once the conversation reached a lull, the days still had to be lived. The "daughter" hadn't been born yet, the "Gate of the Universe" wasn't perfected, and the "Plan" was still just a blueprint.
So... what else could they do? They simply kept living.
The couple holed up at home, spending their time indulging in their whims—playing games, binge-watching anime, reading manga, and catching up on dramas. For these simple trifles, Riku only needed to wave his hand to manifest anything from his memories into reality.
Don't underestimate the Lord of the Universe, alright? Damn it!
As for the problem of having already seen these stories—losing the thrill of discovery and the constant risk of spoilers? Simple! Under Alice's vigorous and demanding guidance, Riku simply sealed away the relevant memories in his mind. He could unlock them whenever he wanted, or leave them sealed to enjoy the experience slowly.
After all, time was infinite. For the long-lived, passing through an endless lifespan is a significant challenge.
Especially since Riku could no longer be called a mere long-lived being. As a living embodiment of a human-shaped universe, calling him an "immortal" would be an understatement. And Alice, who was originally long-lived? Well, after being saturated by the "Cosmic Energy" of the Lord of the Universe, her own life essence had undergone a metamorphosis. Why else would she have failed to conceive for the first few decades?
It was only when Riku was in a "weakened state" and Alice was in the midst of her "gradual metamorphosis" that conception finally occurred. To be precise, it was quite absurd. Their life levels were fundamentally mismatched; to put it bluntly, it was practically reproductive isolation. You could say that the conception of their daughter was a miracle where luck accounted for 99.9999% of the outcome.
As for the future? Unless Riku could maintain this exact state of luck before fully recovering, or unless an existence with a perfectly matched life level appeared—and even then, it would still be a gamble—the odds were slim. Simply put, Riku having one daughter was his greatest stroke of fortune. The possibility of conceiving another child in the future was virtually non-existent.
And so, Riku stood by the bed, his eyes shimmering with joy and excitement, yet he remained lost in thought.
Alice lay on the bed, her body enveloped in vast, profound energy—the very Cosmic Energy birthed to celebrate the arrival of the "Daughter of the Universe." If nothing else, this was a massive gain! A small portion of the Nirvana/Extinction could be cleared away just by this event; the benefits brought to the universe by the birth of a "Daughter of the Universe" were immense.
How to put it? The universe is like a vast empire, but generally, emperors are never born. Riku was already the Emperor, and now, having an heir? The implications were monumental. Many ministers who had fought alongside the Emperor needed to see a successor. Why? Because only with an heir could they truly rest easy, knowing their wealth and status would be passed down through the generations.
("Almost impossible now.")
Riku watched as the Cosmic Energy began to recede, concluding his internal assessment. The facts proved it: aside from this eldest daughter, the possibility of having more children was essentially nil.
("Well!")
("No need to dwell on it. In this life, one daughter is enough.")
Riku didn't agonize over it. Instead, he stepped forward as the energy dissipated, revealing a perfectly sculpted, porcelain-like infant. Despite having just been born, she wasn't wrinkled at all. She was flawless, possessing the same hair color as her mother, the same eyes, the same...
("...")
Riku and Alice stared at their daughter floating in mid-air, both falling into a simultaneous silence.
How to say this? If not for the irrefutable proof from her origin, soul, and bloodline, and the way the universe itself stood guard around her, confirming the identity of little Klee, Riku would have actually suspected: *Is this really my daughter?*
He was the Lord of the Universe, for heaven's sake! Did his genes not manifest at all?
As for the name? Whether it was a coincidence or destiny, the name slipped out of Alice's lips almost instinctively, and Riku didn't refuse. After all, who could resist such a cute "Little Sun"?
("Hahaha~~~")
After the silence, Alice burst into wild laughter. She laughed until she was pounding the bed with one hand, her body shaking and swaying, unable to stop.
Riku simply held his daughter in his arms. The little cutie felt the gentle warmth, nuzzled into his chest, and drifted off into a deep sleep. Even as the daughter of the Lord of the Universe, despite her extraordinary innate talent, a newborn still needs to sleep.
("Darling~~~")
At this moment, Alice crawled up, leaning against Riku's shoulder. She looked at their daughter, her expression softening into something as gentle as water. A quirky, lively witch—even if she looked like a mature beauty—wasn't usually the "gentle" type. Indeed, only the continuation of one's own bloodline could truly soften a woman.
However, the gentleness was short-lived.
A moment later, Alice curled her lips into a mischievous smirk. With the "Phoenix-like" arrogance of a "Long Aotian" parody, she teased, ("Darling! Your genes really aren't up to the task, are they? Look at our daughter—does she look even a little bit like you? And you call yourself the Lord of the Universe? Don't tell me you're actually...")
*Ah!!!*
A sharp cry was her only response. She had been tossed back onto the bed, and she looked up to see Riku smiling with his eyes half-closed.
("Alice, was there something you wanted to say?") Riku tilted his head, smiling as he asked.
("Darling, I just gave birth to Klee, I'm tired, I want to...") Before Alice could finish, she clamped her mouth shut. When she opened it again, the sound that emerged was like the cry of a phoenix. After all, she had just been mimicking a "Phoenix Aotian" with a "crooked-mouth" expression; it was only natural to mimic the cry of a phoenix now, right?
But soon, Alice was begging for mercy. It was clear that even a "Phoenix Aotian" was destined to lose against the "Lord of the Universe."
As for the scuffle between her parents, little Klee was completely oblivious. She lay in her small bed, covered by a thin blanket, turned over, and cracked a cute, adorable smile, sleeping as soundly as could be.