Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village-Chapter 193: Hidden Love

Just as Leona finally seemed ready to call it a day—a voice cut through the evening calm.

"Clucky? Clucky, where are you?!"

The voice was high and anxious, carrying through the trees with the unmistakable desperation of someone searching for a lost loved one.

"Please come back to me! You’re making me so worried!"

Hearing this, Leona’s entire demeanor shifted.

Her exhaustion seemed to evaporate as her head snapped toward the sound.

She moved quickly, silently, slipping behind a thick bush and peering through the leaves.

Luca, still hidden in the branches above, followed her gaze.

Lulu was standing in a small clearing and she was currently turning in circles, scanning the underbrush, the trees, the sky as if expecting her quarry to descend from above at any moment.

"Please come back! It’s already so late!"

"If you stay out too long, a wolf is going to come and get you, and you’ll be pooped out in seconds!"

Luca, still hidden in the branches above, pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

Lulu scanned the forest desperately, her voice rising with each call.

"And there’s also Auntie Nyx! You already pooped on our house seventeen times, and she has you on her hit list!"

"If she finds you roaming around, even i can’t save you!"

She paused, listening.

Nothing.

Her face crumpled, but then—with the determination of someone who had absolutely no idea what they were doing—she cupped her hands around her mouth and began to make noises.

"BOKAK! BOKAK BOKAK BOKAK!"

She started flapping her arms like wings, bouncing on her heels, trying to imitate the very chicken she was searching for.

"BOKAK BOKAK! COME BACK, CLUCKY! YOUR MOMMY MISSES YOU! BOKAK BOKAK!"

From behind the bush, Leona watched this spectacle with an expression Luca had never seen on her face before.

Her face had softened completely.

The cold mask, the guarded eyes, the rigid posture—all of it was gone.

In its place was pure, unguarded maternal love.

Her lips were curved in a smile so warm it could have melted snow.

Her eyes were bright, almost luminous, as she watched her daughter stomp around the clearing clucking like a deranged chicken.

She looked like she could watch this scene forever. Like Lulu’s silliness was the greatest gift she had ever received.

Luca’s chest tightened. This was the Leona that her daughters had never gotten to see. This was the mother they should have had.

But even as he watched, Leona’s expression changed. The love was still there, but now it was joined by something else: determination.

She was going to help her daughter find the chicken.

Luca leaned forward, curious.

How exactly did Leona, hidden in a bush, plan to help her daughter find a lost chicken without revealing herself?

He didn’t have to wait long to find the answer.

Leona crouched lower, brought her hands to her mouth and to Luca’s surprise—let out a perfect chicken call.

"Bok bok bok. BOK BOK BOK."

Luca’s jaw dropped.

The cold, merciless woman who had wanted to shoot him on his first day in the village was crouched behind a bush making chicken noises.

And she was good at it.

The pitch was perfect, the rhythm exactly right. It sounded more like a real chicken than Lulu’s frantic clucking ever could.

Lulu’s head snapped toward the sound.

"Clucky?! Is that you?! Oh thank the spirits, Clucky, where are you?!"

She charged toward the bush, and Leona—with the grace of a trained assassin—slipped away and ducked behind a tree just as Lulu reached her hiding spot.

"Bokak! Bokak bokak!" Came the call from behind the tree now.

Lulu whirled. "CLUCKY! WAIT! DON’T RUN AWAY!"

She ran toward the tree. Leona, already moving, was behind another bush.

"Bokak! Bokak!"

"Oh my god, Clucky, you’re playing with me now?! You’re playing hide and seek?!"

Lulu’s voice had shifted from frantic to excited, her eyes sparkling as she chased the mysterious chicken that was always just out of sight.

"YOU NAUGHTY BIRD! I’M GOING TO GET YOU!"

And Leona, her face split by a grin that could only be described as impish, kept leading her on.

Bush to tree. Tree to bush. Clucking and calling, always just ahead, always just out of sight

. She moved through the forest like a ghost, guiding her daughter with invisible strings, and Lulu followed like a puppy chasing a butterfly, her earlier panic completely forgotten.

Luca followed too, silent in the branches, watching the most absurd and wonderful chase he had ever seen.

And slowly, inevitably, Leona led Lulu exactly where she needed to go.

The chicken—the real chicken—was still pecking at worms near the fallen log, blissfully unaware of the chaos it had caused.

Leona reached it first, scooping it up with a practiced hand, and then she tossed it directly into Lulu’s path.

The chicken flew through the air, wings flapping, letting out an indignant "BOK BOK BOK!" that was far more impressive than any of Leona’s imitations.

Just then—Lulu burst through the bushes in time to catch it.

She froze for a moment, processing. Then her face exploded into joy.

"CLUCKY! OH MY GOD, CLUCKY!"

She crushed the chicken to her chest, hugging it so tight the poor bird let out a strangled squawk.

"I found you! I actually found you!"

She was crying now, actual tears streaming down her face.

"I was so worried! You naughty, naughty bird! Don’t you ever run away like that again! I’ll cook you myself, i swear!"

She was kissing its feathered head, scolding it, hugging it, crying all at once and the chicken, thoroughly unimpressed, pecked at her nose.

Leona watched from behind her tree, and her face was the most beautiful thing Luca had ever seen.

It wasn’t just the satisfaction of a favor done.

It was love. Pure, radiant, unconditional love.

The love of a mother watching her daughter be happy and seeing this—Luca’s heart ached.

He thought about what it must cost her. To hide like this. To love like this.

To be so close, to give so much, to shape her daughter’s life in a hundred invisible ways—and never, ever be able to step into the light and say,

"It was me. I was here. I helped."

He couldn’t help but think, if she could be open with Lulu, if she could let herself love without restraint—how different would things be?

She would spoil her, Luca knew. She would shower her with affection, with praise, with all the warmth she had been forced to bottle up for so long.

She would be the kind of mother who made chicken noises in the forest just to see her daughter smile.

But she couldn’t. So she did it in secret. So she loved in the shadows.

It was heartbreaking. It was beautiful. It was, Luca realized, exactly what she had been doing for her entire life.

Meanwhile, Leona stirred from her hiding spot.

She took one last look at Lulu, who was now walking away with Clucky tucked under her arm, before turning away and moving again.

Luca followed, expecting her to finally head home.

She needed rest—she had worked herself to exhaustion all day.

Surely now she would go home.

But she didn’t.

She walked past her own treehouse. Past the central village. Past the last homes on the edge of the settlement.

She kept going, deeper into the forest, and Luca’s curiosity reignited.

Where was she going now? Another secret favor? Another hidden act of kindness?

She led him through the darkening forest, past the familiar paths, until they reached a small clearing.

Lanterns had been set up around its edges, their soft glow pushing back the encroaching night.

Targets stood at the far end—multiple targets, spaced at increasing distances.

And in the center of the clearing, bow in hand, was Luna.

Luca stopped. Leona stopped. Both of them watched from the shadows as Luna drew back an arrow, aimed at the farthest target, and released.

The arrow flew straight and true, thudding into the target—not the bullseye, but close.

It was obvious she had improved dramatically. Her form was better, her aim steadier, her confidence higher.

But Luna herself wasn’t satisfied.

She frowned at the target, her jaw tightening. She drew another arrow. Released. Another near miss. Another frustrated exhale.

For anyone else, hitting the target consistently from this distance would be an accomplishment.

But Luna wanted the bullseye. No, she needed the bullseye.

And Leona, watching her daughter’s growing frustration, was clearly aching for her.

Luca saw it in the way her fingers dug into her own arms. In the way her lips moved silently, forming words she couldn’t speak aloud.

Then, so quietly that Luca almost missed it, she began to whisper,

"You can do it, Luna!....You can do it!"

Her voice was barely a breath, softer than the wind through the leaves.

"Your mother believes in you, darling!Your mother believes that her baby girl can do it!"

Her hands were clenched into fists now, pumping the air with tiny, desperate movements.

"Come on, don’t give up! You’re so close! You’re so close! You can do it. I know you can!"

And Luca didn’t know if it was luck. He didn’t know if her mother’s silent prayer had somehow reached her across the clearing.

But as Luna drew back the bow again, held it steady, breathed out, and released—

The arrow flew directly into the center of the bullseye.

Luna stared for a moment, processing. Then her face exploded into a grin.

"I DID IT!"

She pumped her fist, jumping in place.

"I FINALLY DID IT! BULLSEYE!"

Behind her bush, Leona was elated.

Her whole body surged forward with the overwhelming need to cheer, to celebrate, to run to her daughter and wrap her in the tightest hug the world had ever seen.

But at the last moment, she caught herself.

She slammed back down, clamped her hands over her mouth, and pressed herself into the earth.

But she couldn’t stop the joy.

She rolled onto her side, hugging herself, kicking her feet against the grass in silent, ecstatic celebration.

Her face was buried in her hands, but Luca could see the grin splitting it wide open.

She looked like a child on their birthday. Like someone who had just received the greatest gift imaginable.

Because she had. Her daughter had just achieved something incredible.

And even though she couldn’t share it, couldn’t run to her, couldn’t say the words burning in her chest—

She had seen it. She had been there. She had watched her daughter succeed.

Luna, meanwhile, had calmed down. She walked to the target, pulled the arrow from the bullseye, and held it up to the fading light, examining it like a treasure.

Then, softly, her smile dimmed.

"It would have been nice if Mother was here to see that."

Luca’s heart clenched.

Luna looked around the empty clearing, as if hoping somehow that her mother might appear.

"She would have been proud, right?"

She spoke to herself, her voice small.

"She’s so good at archery. The best in the village. If she’d seen me hit the bullseye, she would have...she would have been impressed. Maybe. I think."

"I...I wish she was here."

The words hit Leona like a physical blow.

All the joy drained from her face, replaced by an expression of such raw, aching sorrow that Luca felt his own heart crack.

She reached out toward her daughter, her fingers stretching through the air as if she could close the distance between them with will alone.

’I’m here.’ Her gesture seemed to say. ’I’m right here. I saw everything. I’m so proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you.’

But she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t move.

The invisible shackles that bound her, the fear that had controlled her for so long, held her in place.

She trembled with the effort of resisting, her face a mask of frustration and anger and desperate, aching love.

Luna, unaware of the drama unfolding just feet away, shook her head and forced herself to smile.

"No, no, no. You shouldn’t think like that, Luna."

She straightened up, determination replacing sadness in her voice.

"One bullseye isn’t enough. You need to shoot bullseye after bullseye after bullseye. Only when you can hit the center every single time, without fail, can you really show off to someone like Mother."

"After all, Mother is a master archer. The best in the village. She won’t be properly proud of you until you can match her skill."

She nodded firmly, as if convincing herself.

"So until then, you practice. You get better. And one day, you’ll be able to stand in front of her and say ’Look, Mother. Look what I can do. I can finally feel worthy to be your daughter now.’"

With that goal in mind, she marched over to the target, pulled the arrow free, and stalked back toward the village with her head held high and her eyes burning with purpose.

Leona on the other hand watched from her bush, and the tears were still falling, but now there was something else in her expression.

Something broken and beautiful at the same time.

Because Luna was wrong. She was so, so wrong.

She didn’t need to prove anything. She had never needed to prove anything.

Leona had been proud of her from the moment she was born.

Proud of her for taking her first steps, for speaking her first words, for drawing her first bow.

Proud of her for surviving. For growing.

For becoming the remarkable young woman she was today.

But she couldn’t say it and it was heartbreaking.

But Leona didn’t stay sad for long.

She had spent years mastering the art of swallowing her feelings, of packing away heartbreak into a box and locking it tight.

This was just another moment, another ache, another thing she couldn’t have.

She instead pushed herself up from the ground, brushed the dirt and leaves from her skirt with practiced efficiency, and straightened her back.

Right now, she was tired. Exhausted, really.

Her whole body ached from the day’s labors, and she desperately wanted nothing more than to collapse into her bed and sleep for a week.

But first, she had to make it home.

She took a step forward. But just then—

"Must be quite hard, being the Spirit of the Forest."

The voice came from behind her, casual and relaxed, as if commenting on the weather.

"Sneaking around all day, doing good deeds, never getting any credit. Must be exhausting."