Birthing Legends: My Womb Creates SSS Monsters Chapter 198: Capital City: Prometha — The Adventurer’s Capit

Hoppy took a shaky breath and hugged her notebook to her chest.

"I’m just... I’m really nervous, Miss Maddy. I don’t see my papa very often. Sotis he only cos ho for one day a month. Sotis he doesn’t co ho at all."

She looked up at the massive, expensive stalls around them.

"Oozewell chose him to be our representative here. His job is to sell our slis and show the Capital how good our products are. He has so much pressure on him to make the village successful... and now the village is gone."

Hoppy’s eyes filled with tears again.

"I’m scared he’ll be disappointed. Or that he won’t even recognize because it’s been so long. What if he’s busy with a big custor and I’m just... in the way?"

Maddy felt a pang of sympathy. She reached out and smoothed Hoppy’s hair, her voice firm but kind.

"Listen to , Hoppy. Any father who is working this hard for his village is doing it because he loves his family. He’s not going to care about ’products’ or ’custors’ when he sees you standing there safe and sound. You’re the best thing he’s ever ’produced,’ okay?"

Maddy stood up and gave Hoppy a playful nudge.

"Besides, if he’s a professional salesman, he’s going to love that ’Monster-Recipe’ book of yours. You’re basically his new business partner!"

Hoppy wiped her eyes.

"You’re right. I can do this. He’s at the stall with the blue and white banner... the Oozewell Trade Post."

Maddy and Hoppy turned a corner, and there it was. A man with the sa brownish orange hair as Hoppy was frantically reorganizing a shelf of glowing jars, looking exhausted and stressed.

The man sighed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He looked tired, his shoulders slumped as he tried to polish a dusty jar of Food Sli samples. He was murmuring to himself, likely running through sales figures or rehearsing a pitch for the next wealthy rchant passing by.

Hoppy stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath hitched, and she grabbed Maddy’s hand, her small palm damp with nerves.

"That’s him..."

Maddy felt a sharp, sympathetic ache in her own chest. She was instantly transported back to the mory of her own first day—that terrifying, heart pounding mont when her husband’s family first laid eyes on her, a street worn child suddenly standing in their threshold.

She rembered the paralyzing questions that had echoed in her mind:

"Would they accept ? Would they be angry?"

She knew that specific dread... the fear of rejection, could be heavier than any physical burden. Steeling herself, Maddy shook off the ghosts of her past and gave Hoppy a gentle, encouraging push forward.

"Go on, Hoppy. He’s been working for you this whole ti. Don’t leave him waiting."

Hoppy took a shaky step forward. Her feet felt so heavy, but her eyes were locked on her father. She cleared her throat, but no sound ca out. She tried again, louder this ti, her voice cracking in the middle of the busy market street.

"P-papa?"

The man froze. He didn’t turn around imdiately, as if he thought he might be hearing things. Slowly, his shoulders rose as he drew in a sharp, jagged breath. He turned, his eyes searching the crowd. When his gaze landed on the little girl standing a few feet away, the jars in his hands rattled against the shelf.

"Hoppy?"

His voice was thin but for a split second, Maddy saw sothing flicker in his eyes that wasn’t just relief. His grip on the jars tightened, and he whispered sothing under his breath—a low, hurried mumble that sounded like,

"Why is she here?"

Maddy’s eyes narrowed. She caught the strange shift in his energy instantly. It was a cold, sharp flicker of alarm, not the pure joy she had expected. But Hoppy didn’t notice. She was already moving.

"Papa!"

Hoppy cried out, her small feet pounding against the cobblestones. She threw herself at him, her notebook flapping against her side.

The man seed to snap out of his daze just as she reached him. He dropped the jars onto the counter and caught her, pulling her into a tight hug. Suddenly, his face twisted into an expression of intense shock and emotion. He began to shake, his voice rising so the surrounding rchants could hear.

"Hoppy! Oh, gods... Hoppy!"

He pulled back, gripping her shoulders and looking her over with wide, watery eyes.

"I got the news from the Guild! They told the village was gone! They said the distortion... they said there were no survivors! I’ve been sitting here in this stall, mourning my entire family!"

He pulled her back into a hug, wailing loudly enough to draw a small crowd.

"It’s a miracle! A total miracle! I thought I was all alone from the Oozewell town!"

Maddy stood back, her arms crossed. She watched the man’s face closely. On the surface, he looked like a grieving, relieved father. But that first whisper... the way he had looked at Hoppy like she was a complication rather than a blessing—stayed stuck in Maddy’s mind like a burr.

Maddy watched them closely, her arms still crossed. She didn’t like that first look he gave Hoppy, but she tried to shake the feeling off.

"Maybe he’s just in shock," she thought. "The man just found out his entire town was wiped out. Anyone would be a ss after that."

She looked at the dusty jars and the small, cramped stall. He looked like a man drowning in work and grief at the sa ti. Hoppy buried her face in her father’s tunic, her small shoulders shaking with heavy sobs.

"I’m sorry, Papa! I’m so sorry! Mom... she didn’t make it. The house, the neighbors... it’s all gone. There’s nothing left of Oozewell."

The man flinched for a second, his face pale, but then he smoothed her hair down with a trembling hand.

"It’s okay, Hoppy. Shh, it’s okay. The town, the house... they’re just things. The only thing that matters is that you are standing right here. You’re alive. That’s the only miracle I needed."

He held her tight, though Maddy noticed he kept glancing at the people passing by in the market, as if he was worried about who was watching them. He seed to be trying very hard to keep his composure while the whole world stared at their reunion.