Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered!-Chapter 100: Aurelia, The Weak and Cowardice

"Shut up! I'm trying!" Aurelia's voice cracked as she wiped her tears, desperately trying to stay strong.

If she didn't kill, she'd die out here. It was kill or be killed—and she had to live. She had to see her mother again.

Rhys sighed, watching her trembling hands clutch the knife. "Just give up already. It's painful to look at you like this."

"Don't pity me!" she snapped, her voice rising with frustration. "If I fail now, we both die!"

"Goddamn girl..." Rhys muttered under his breath.

With a burst of strength, he tore through the tendrils binding him and stood up. His body still ached, but it didn't matter—watching her break down stirred something in him.

"Don't come any closer! Or I'll—!"

But she was too slow.

Rhys snatched the knife from her hands and in one clean motion, drove it into the rabbit trapped in their snare. Its squeal was brief.

He turned toward her, holding the lifeless body. "See? That easy."

Aurelia had already covered her eyes with her hands, trembling like a leaf. That frustrated him more than he wanted to admit.

"How the hell have you even survived this long? Aren't you and your mother fugitives?"

"We bought our food from the butcher, obviously!" she shouted, peeking through her fingers. "Me and my mom aren't savages!"

Rhys rolled his eyes. "You're helpless… No wonder your mother's angry with you."

Her breath caught. "Don't bring my mother into this!" she snapped. "You don't know anything about us!"

Finally, she uncovered her eyes, and her gaze fell on the bloodied rabbit. She flinched.

"Oh yeah? If you hadn't dragged me out here, we'd both starve to death. So don't act righteous," he muttered, then pointed the blood-stained knife at her.

His hand was bleeding, but his tone was calm. "If you want to make your mother proud, then skin it. Remove the guts. Prove you're not useless."

He smirked. "Or do you not even know how to do that?"

His words struck a nerve.

Aurelia's brows furrowed as she grabbed the knife back and squatted beside the rabbit. She hesitated, clutching one of its tiny feet, then raised the blade—only for her hands to start trembling again.

Watching her struggle stirred both irritation and pity in Rhys. With a sigh, he crouched beside her, took the knife, and began skinning the rabbit himself.

"Don't close your eyes," he said. "Watch. This is how it's done."

It didn't take long. In swift, practiced motions, he stripped the fur and pulled out the organs, tossing them aside with mechanical precision.

Aurelia stared, equal parts horrified and amazed. The blood made her stomach twist, but some part of her knew—she needed to learn this.

Afterward, they walked to a nearby river to rinse the blood and clean the meat. The silence between them was heavy, but for the first time, it didn't feel hostile.

She wasn't proud of how much she struggled—but she stayed.

And she watched.

After all done, they lit a fire and grilled the rabbit meat. Aurelia sat as far away from Rhys as possible, arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

Rhys just shook his head, glancing at her from time to time as he turned the meat over the flames.

"You…" she finally broke the silence.

"Why didn't you kill me? Aren't you a witch hunter? And yet you're helping me."

"Not everyone in the Church thinks the same," Rhys said, his voice calm. "Humans aren't just black and white, you know?"

He rotated the skewered meat slowly over the fire. "That said, I still don't like your kind. But I won't kill someone who saved my life."

He offered one of the sticks to her.

Aurelia took it hesitantly, nibbling in silence. The meat was tough and tasteless, dry enough to make her wince with each chew. She didn't like it at all.

Rhys noticed and smirked. "You're not used to eating terrible food, huh?"

She furrowed her brows, unsure of what he meant.

"That just means your mother really loves you," he added, matter-of-factly.

Aurelia blinked. "That doesn't make sense. What does bad food have to do with love?"

"It makes perfect sense," Rhys replied.

"You're a fugitive. Always running, hiding. And yet you've never had to eat something this awful. Don't you think that's strange?"

Her eyes widened, turning down to look at the burnt rabbit meat. He had a point. It made her chest tighten with guilt—how much her mother had done for her, how ungrateful she'd been.

"But… why do you keep bringing up my mom?" she muttered. "Trying to play the peacemaker or something?"

"I am," Rhys said with a half-smile.

"Children always think their parents will live forever—that they'll always be there."

He poked the fire with a stick. "But now you're in the forest, alone, with someone who once tried to kill you. And you don't even know if your mother's still alive."

Aurelia clenched her fists. "My mother is alive! I know it!"

"You can't be certain," he replied bluntly. "I stabbed her deep, remember? She was alone in the woods. No help. No one to tend to the wound… She might already be dead."

"Shut up!" she shouted, her voice shaking. "She's alive! I'll find her!"

In a panic, she scrambled to her feet and ran off into the forest.

Rhys sighed, rising to his feet. "Can't believe I'm babysitting her…"

Aurelia screamed her mother's name, wandering aimlessly through the trees.

She'd forgotten the hut, forgotten everything but the overwhelming urge to find her mother. But no matter how far she walked, there was no sign of her.

Only trees.

Only shadows.

It was then the crushing truth began to settle in.

She was helpless without her. All her life, her mother had made the decisions—where to go, how to spend their money, what to eat, when to run. Aurelia had never needed to think, only follow.

Her legs gave out beneath her, but she refused to cry. She remembered her mother's voice: Be strong. Stay alive.

Wiping away the tears forming in her eyes, she forced herself to keep walking.

Eventually, a small village emerged in the distance.

Aurelia's heart stirred with a faint sense of hope. "Maybe someone there's seen her… or has a map."

But just as she stepped toward it, a hand grabbed her wrist.

It was Rhys.

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"Don't," he said firmly. "You don't know anything about that village. For all you know, they might have ties to the Church. If they find out what you are, they won't hesitate to burn you at the stake."