Journey from Overlord

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"Mother, are you feeling well?" Suddenly, a hot, moist breath came from her ear, making Aya's spine tingle.

While Aya was eating, one girl sat behind her and began massaging her shoulders.

"Mother, your front is so heavy, it must be very painful. Please, let me massage you." Although this sentence sounded strange, it was hard to refuse her kindness. As for the massage, Aya didn't hate it.

The fingers were very strong, the technique very skilled, and more importantly, she knew exactly where to apply pressure. Is it true that a daughter knows her mother better than anyone else? In any case, it was very comfortable.

"It's very comfortable. Thank you for your hard work." Expressing gratitude was basic etiquette.

But then Aya realized something. She couldn't call these two girls Demihuman-1 (Warrior) and Demihuman-2 (Mage)—it wasn't cute and seemed a bit impolite. It looked like she'd have to give them names.

"If possible, let me give you a name." Aya said, and the two girls opposite her and behind her obviously paused.

"If you don't want to, never mind..."

"No, no, no, I'm willing to do it. I'm very willing. Please, go ahead!"

"Please, give me a name!"

Wow, the pressure was intense. Looking at the girls' sparkling eyes, Aya felt a slight stomachache.

"Well, let me think... You can be called Camilla." This was the name she gave to the plump warrior behind her.

"Then, your name will be Pleia." This was the name she gave to the slender Mage in front of her.

"Camilla."

"Pleia."

The two girls silently repeated their names, their faces radiating joy.

Great, as long as they're happy. Aya sighed with relief. It seems her naming skills were still good, unlike one of her friends...

"I've finished massaging your shoulders and back. Let me massage your front as well." Camilla said with a smile.

"Wait, it's just the front..." It was very comfortable, but a little shy. Aya didn't want to reject their sparkling kindness, though.

"Well, I'll leave it to you."

Where Aya couldn't see, Camilla gave Pleia a proud, slightly provocative look.

"Tsk." Pleia gritted her teeth secretly and glanced at Camilla angrily, but in Camilla's eyes, it looked more like envy and jealousy.

"Did Pleia make breakfast? It's delicious." Aya said, completely unaware of the subtle confrontation between the two sisters.

"Yes, because mother might not like food made with magic, I caught the salmon specially." Pleia said, her eyes clearly brightened with joy.

"See? It's my breakfast that makes Mom happier."

"Haha, flat girl, you're so happy just doing servant work."

"What, you giant monster!"

"Are you scolding your mother like that? I've had enough!"

"It's not magic, wait a minute." Aya suddenly realized something.

"What about the bread?" She picked up a piece of fresh, fluffy white bread and swallowed her saliva.

"It's made from wheat, using [Holy Fire] and [Time Acceleration]." Pleia answered calmly, tilting her head.

"Um, where does the wheat come from?"

Wheat doesn't grow naturally.

"There's a place outside the forest where wheat grows."

"I think it's not just the way it looks... but it's planted by people..." Aya mused.

"Everything on Earth belongs to mother." Pleia said seriously, not joking, "Don't worry, mother. I harvested it with my shadow clone. I didn't leak any information."

"It's not just a matter of leaking information. Well, forget it." Aya sighed. She wasn't human anymore, so laws and regulations didn't really apply to her. Or, maybe there would be no police coming to arrest her.

However, this did lead to the accidental discovery of an important piece of information—there were humans in this world, or at least human villages, or other races that could grow wheat.

Aya thought for a moment, then took out something resembling a mirror from her inventory.

"Pleia, tell me the coordinates of the village." Aya said, and Pleia immediately activated magic like [Reconnaissance Camouflage], [Counter-reconnaissance], and [Intelligence Elimination].

This was much smarter than the AI in the game. Thinking of this, Aya looked at the mirror, which now showed a picture. It was a village—typical of human settlements—surrounded by wheat fields.

"There are indeed humans here. Wait, what is that?" Aya muttered. Looking further into the distance, she saw a black spot approaching the village.

Re-adjusting her vision, Aya saw a werewolf army of at least several hundred troops marching toward the human village.

"What are you going to do, Mother?"

"What do you think I should do?" Aya answered calmly, without directly responding to her daughter's question.

Neither Camilla nor Pleia could answer right away.

"Do you think it's justice to help others?" Aya asked the second question. By this time, the werewolf troops had arrived at the village border.

"I don't plan to intervene." Aya stated, her decision clear. The reasoning was simple.

First, there was no value in rescuing them.

Second, there was no reason to.

Having made this judgment, Aya was strangely confused by her own thoughts. What she saw before her—clearly a massacre—did not stir the usual emotions she might expect: compassion, anger, or anxiety.

Her position had changed. She was no longer human, but the Mother Goddess of Life. She still felt love and motherhood for all life, but now that love was equal and rational.

Yes, humans are life, but werewolves are also life. Today, werewolves were slaughtering humans, but tomorrow it could be humans slaughtering werewolves. The day after that, perhaps there would be a battle between humans and sub-humans.

Does she have to stop all of this?

Unfortunately, Aya was still selfish. She loved herself and the people around her more than anything else. In her eyes, werewolves were no different from humans.

From the perspective of the Mother Goddess of Life, whether to plunder or to be plundered is life's own choice.

"This kind of thinking may just be a sophistry to cover up one's own indifference." Aya muttered to herself softly.

Through the telescope, it was clear that the massacre had begun. The humans had no ability to resist the werewolf troops.

The werewolves moved through the village, roaring. Every time they swung their claws or bared their fangs, a villager fell, blood pooling at their feet.