Has the knight lady who married into the countryside fallen into depravity today?

Pregnant in October and giving birth once.

Klein personally delivered the baby.

Of course, Klein himself did not deliver babies.

But what could possibly stump a sage?

In fact, if Klein wanted, he could have given birth to the child himself.

Ahem... let's get back to the main topic:

The delivery bed was covered with three layers of spirit-patterned cloth. The bottom layer was engraved with a stabilizing array, the middle layer with a purifying array, and the top layer with a temperature control array.

On the worktable next to it were twelve kinds of alchemy additives, arranged in order of use, each with a label.

Martha peeked through the crack in the door and came back to tell Pekka, "The teacher has decorated the delivery room like a laboratory."

Pekkal clutched the hem of his shirt, not daring to laugh.

Ophelia leaned against the headboard, watching Klein move things back and forth without saying a word.

There was a cup of warm honey water next to her, but it had gone cold and she hadn't drunk it.

The contractions came in waves, and she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but her back remained straight, and her breathing was steady and slow.

Klein laid out the last bottle of adjuvant, turned around and saw her like that, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Does it hurt?"

"fine."

It seems like they weren't telling the truth.

Klein didn't expose him either.

He squeezed her hand; his palm was warm.

"Trust me?"

Ophelia glanced at him, her golden eyes reflecting his face.

"certainly."

Klein smiled and said nothing more.

He stood up and activated the arrays on the spirit pattern cloth one by one.

Soft light shone through the fabric's texture, warm and cozy, enveloping the entire delivery bed in a thin halo.

The air was filled with the crisp scent of herbs and minerals.

What happened next was later described in many embellished versions by Martha.

But the core point is actually quite simple—Klein did not use any traditional delivery methods.

He placed one hand on Ophelia's abdomen, while his other hand traced a complex alchemical array in the air.

As the array took shape, it emitted a low hum, and the temperature in the delivery room jumped two degrees.

Then there is light.

A ball of light the size of a fist slowly emerged from Ophelia's abdomen and hovered in the center of the formation.

The surface of the light cluster was covered with very faint golden patterns, and something inside was moving, curling up, and slowly unfolding.

Klein reached out and held the ball of light, his fingertips trembling slightly.

The outer shell cracked.

The baby's cry was very soft, like a kitten's meow.

He curled up in a ball, eyes closed, fists clenched, face flushed red.

The umbilical cord was connected to the remaining fragments of the light shell. The fragments quickly dissipated in the air, turning into tiny particles of light that fell into the patterns of the spirit pattern cloth and were absorbed cleanly by the formation.

There was no blood.

There was no mess.

She was so clean she didn't look like she had just given birth.

Klein held the child in his arms and looked down at him for a long time.

Ophelia leaned against the pillow, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, her breathing not yet fully calm.

She reached out and took the child, her movements even gentler than Klein's.

The baby squirmed in her arms, and the crying gradually subsided, leaving only intermittent whimpers.

Rosalind.

Klein paused for a moment.

Ophelia didn't look at him, but looked down at the baby in her arms, her voice very soft.

"Didn't we agree to call her Rosalind?"

Klein sat down on the edge of the bed without saying a word.

He reached out and gently touched the baby's face with his fingertips.

It's soft.

hot.

The commotion outside the door suddenly intensified.

Several people were speaking in hushed tones, but they couldn't completely suppress their voices; the buzzing could be heard through the door.

Martha had the loudest voice, and even after Margaret tried to control her twice, she still couldn't.

Klein frowned, intending to turn around and say "we'll see another day," but before he could speak, Ophelia spoke first.

"Come in."

The door opened.

Martha took the lead, stepping in with such a large stride that she almost tripped on the threshold.

Margaret and Daisy followed behind, while Pekkal peeked out from the back with half her face visible, and Aphrodite tugged at her sleeve.

Five people crowded at the doorway, but no one dared to move forward.

Klein sat on the edge of the bed, blocking most of the view.

Martha craned her neck to look over his shoulder and gasped when she saw it clearly.

"So clean?"

The images of childbirth in her mind were all bloody scenes. She had seen the village midwife's routine twice, and she even burned the sheets.

The delivery room was even cleaner than her kitchen. The array patterns on the spirit cloth were still glowing faintly, and there was a herbal scent in the air.

Klein ignored her.

Ophelia turned the baby in her arms slightly so that the people at the door could see it clearly.

There was a moment of silence in the delivery room.

This baby is different from ordinary newborns.

No wrinkled red skin, no vernix caseosa covering the face.

Her skin was translucent white, so fine that you could see the pale blue veins underneath. Although her facial features hadn't fully developed yet, her outline was already beginning to emerge.

With her eyes closed, her eyelashes were unusually long, and a small tuft of baby hair clung to her forehead, its color so light it was hard to tell whether it was gold or white.

It's pitifully small.

It wasn't even as long as Klein's palm.

Daisy spoke first: "Ouch."

Even with just this one word, the tone of his voice changed.

She wrung her hands around the front of her apron, took two steps forward, then stopped, not daring to get too close.

"This child is so beautiful."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he blushed, realizing he'd spoken too rudely, and quickly added, "I meant, more than usual—"

"Okay, okay—"

Margaret walked around from behind Martha and stood by the bed with steady movements.

She looked down for a few moments, said nothing, but wiped her hands twice on her apron before very carefully touching the baby's little hand that was outside.

The moment the fingertips touched it, the little fist suddenly twitched, and the five fingers curled up as if grasping something.

Margaret withdrew her hand and took a half step back.

She remained expressionless, but the half-step she took back betrayed her true intentions.

Martha leaned closer, crouched down, and stared at the baby until her eyes were level with the infant's. After a long while, she suddenly turned to Klein and asked, "Sir, why isn't she crying? Is that normal? Don't all newborns cry? My mother said the louder the cry, the better—"

"I've cried."

Klein said, "Before you came in."

Martha said "Oh," and then looked down again.

The baby whimpered at the noise, its voice thin and weak, sounding more like annoyance than crying.

Aphrodite remained silent.

She stood behind Pekka, her hands gripping Pekka's shoulders, peering through the gap at the tiny thing.

His gray-green vertical pupils were wide open and unblinking.

"Can I touch it?"

The voice was very soft, with a hint of uncertainty.

Klein glanced at her.

"...It's better not to make a move."

Aphrodite pursed her lips slightly, but did not refute, and obediently withdrew her outstretched hand.

Pekkal remained silent throughout.

This isn't like her—she and Martha are usually the most mischievous of them all.

……

……

The laughter and noise in the courtyard gradually faded away. Klein gently comforted his relatives and friends, half-inviting and half-seeing them off as they left the house.

The crowd, who had been excitedly discussing the newborn, dispersed with light steps.

Martha, walking at the back, was filled with reluctance, pausing frequently. As she approached the door, she couldn't help but turn back to peek into the house, her eyes filled with curiosity and affection for the baby. Finally, Margaret gently pulled her by the back of her collar and led her away from the courtyard with a smile.

The wooden door closed gently, shutting out all sounds from outside.

The noise and commotion faded away, and the warm and cozy bedroom instantly returned to tranquility.

There was no one else in the room except Klein, Ophelia, and the tiny baby Rosalind sleeping peacefully in their arms.

The tiny newborn is sleeping soundly, its small body curled up, its breathing soft and long, without any of the restlessness and crying common in newborns.

Klein slowly walked to the bedside and sat down, his gaze gently falling on his daughter's tender little face, gazing at her quietly for a long time.

After a moment, his calm thoughts gradually settled, and then he slowly raised his right hand, hovering it above Rosalind's small body. His fingertips were about an inch apart, without touching her delicate skin, but using gentle alchemical perception to carefully examine the child's condition.

A gentle, subtle magic quietly spread out, slowly sweeping over the infant's limbs, bones, and the very foundation of his soul.

After a few breaths, Klein gently withdrew his hand, but the slight doubt in his eyes had not completely disappeared.

The results of the investigation were perfect: the little one's soul foundation was exceptionally stable, without the slightest restlessness or cracks, and there was no sign of the instability of the soul common in newborns; although the magical circuits in his body were not yet fully developed and were still immature, they had an extremely complete and pure foundation, without any impurities or obstructions; his physique and constitution far surpassed those of ordinary newborns, carrying the powerful bloodline foundation that Ophelia was born with, and his foundation was solid and stable.

But if I don't do something, I don't feel at ease.

Klein then got up and walked to the makeshift alchemy workbench set up to the side. The wooden tabletop was clean and tidy, with neatly arranged tools and potions.

He calmly retrieved several well-sealed, top-purity alchemical auxiliaries, then took a flat recording stone slab, condensed fine magical power at his fingertips, and began to carefully sketch and deduce.

Ophelia stood quietly, holding the child in her arms, her gaze gently falling on the father and daughter, without uttering a sound to disturb the peace.

At the worktable, Klein repeatedly deduced and revised the design, finally settling on the safest, gentlest, and most suitable version for children's constitution.

Then, he took out a pure silver amulet the size of a fingernail and meticulously engraved the perfect array pattern on the stone slab onto it.

Delicate patterns meander across the silver surface, evenly spaced and arranged in a pleasing manner. As the last stroke completes the design, the cool silver talisman slowly exudes a warm, gentle glow, subtle and lingering, with no ostentatious magical fluctuations.

Klein, holding the warm amulet, walked quietly back to the bedside.

With a slight twitch of her fingertips, the array on the amulet was quietly activated. Fine, soft, shimmering white light slowly overflowed along the intricate patterns, like flowing star frost, gently covering Rosalind's delicate skin, slowly traveling along the texture of her skin, and tenderly enveloping her small body.

The sleeping baby seemed to sense a slight coolness and warmth. Its small nose furrowed slightly, and its eyebrows twitched slightly, but it did not open its eyes. It remained immersed in a peaceful dream, soft and obedient.

Ten breaths passed in the blink of an eye, and the shimmering white light slowly merged into the silver talisman, completing all the blessings quietly.

Klein picked up the amulet and examined it closely. The patterns were intact, the magic was abundant, and the amulet had a profound foundation. It still had a large amount of magic remaining, which could be repeatedly recharged and used for a long time, and could always protect the child.

He pondered to himself that if there were a status panel, Rosalind would surely be wearing a permanent buff called "Sage's Blessing" right now. It would be silent yet protect her for life, and its specific benefits would be immeasurable. He would just have to wait for her to grow up and the effects would become apparent.

"Is everything ready?"

Ophelia asked softly, her voice gentle, as if afraid of disturbing the child in her arms.

"Okay, all done."

Klein responded softly.

Ophelia gazed down at her daughter's exquisitely beautiful face, her heart softening. She lowered her head slightly and gently placed a soft kiss on the child's smooth forehead.

A fleeting touch, a brief and tender moment, as light as an evening breeze brushing against flower petals.

Rosalind remained fast asleep, completely unaware of the double gift she had received—the loving protection of a sage and the tender prayers of a mother who ruled the realm, both falling upon her tender shoulders and paving the way for an unparalleled starting point in her life.

Ophelia carefully raised her hand and gently tucked the soft quilt around the child's delicate body, then looked up at Klein beside her and asked gently, "Would you like to hold her again?"

Klein was slightly taken aback upon hearing this.

He didn't respond, but instead bent down slightly, carefully stretched out his arms, and steadily took the tiny baby from Ophelia's arms.

The moment her body was moved, Rosalind's brows furrowed slightly, and a soft, sweet hum escaped her throat, but she still didn't wake up. She just instinctively snuggled into the warm embrace, found a safe and comfortable angle, and continued to sleep soundly.

Klein lowered his eyes and gazed quietly at the tiny creature in his arms.

The little one slept very peacefully, his long, fine eyelashes softly clinging to his pink cheeks, and his soft, wispy baby hair gently brushing against his forearm, bringing a subtle and gentle tickle, and causing layers of tender ripples to rise in his heart.

"She's so cute."

He murmured softly, his tone filled with undisguised joy and tenderness.

Ophelia gazed quietly at the serene scene before her, her cool and aloof expression softening. She remained silent, quietly enjoying the tranquility.

"Looks like you."

Klein looked up at her and said softly.

Ophelia raised an eyebrow slightly and asked softly, "How do I resemble you?"

Klein paused slightly, a faint smile playing in his eyes, and replied gently, "In every way, they're alike."

He couldn't quite discern the similarities in the child's features, but just looking at the little child filled his mind with Ophelia's image—gentle and radiant, filling his heart with warmth.

A moment later, he carefully raised his hand and gently placed Rosalind back into Ophelia's warm embrace, while placing the warm silver amulet gently beside the child's pillow.

Ophelia caught a glimpse of the exquisite amulet out of the corner of her eye and asked softly, "Should I have her wear it close to her body from now on?"

"Um."

Klein nodded slightly, without explaining anything.

Ophelia understood immediately and gently picked up the silver talisman from beside her pillow.

The silver talisman has a warm and smooth texture, is finely polished, and has rounded and smooth edges that will not scratch a child's delicate skin.

She recognized at a glance that the silver used in this amulet was from the same source as the wedding ring on her hand, a material carefully selected by Klein.

A warm feeling quietly spread through her heart. She didn't put the amulet on the child immediately, but gently pressed it under the soft pillow, steadily protecting the sleeping child, tenderly and securely.

"You were well-prepared."

She looked up at Klein.

"certainly."

Klein answered calmly.