Baby System: I'm the Beast World's Only Hope!-Chapter 284: Episode 282: Roxy is a blessing.

The living room was an absolute sea of green, leaf-wrapped parcels.

There were thousands of them, stacked haphazardly across every available surface. Leaving them like this was a chaotic nightmare. They needed to be sorted, batched, and crated for rapid deployment.

Roxy turned to Torian. "Bring in the large wooden crates from the storage shed. All of them. And grab a piece of cold charcoal from the hearth."

Torian didn’t ask questions. He gently took the sleeping toddler, Tanith, from Roxy’s hip and laid her carefully on a thick, clean fur rug near the extinguished fireplace, ensuring the little one was comfortable. Then, he strode out the back door.

Within minutes, Torian returned, hauling a stack of six massive, heavy-duty wooden crates over his broad shoulders as if they weighed nothing at all. He set them down in the only clear space remaining in the center of the living room. He handed Roxy a thick piece of blackened charcoal.

"Perfect," Roxy said, rolling her sleeves up. "Let’s get to work."

They fell into a rapid, highly efficient rhythm. Roxy took point on quality control and batching, while Torian handled the heavy lifting. The White Tiger’s massive hands scooped up dozens of parcels at a time, bringing them to Roxy for inspection before placing them neatly into the designated crates.

"These over here," Roxy instructed, pointing to a specific, towering pile near the kitchen archway. "These are the highly concentrated batches. Syris put a double dose of the Kraken venom and abyssal ink into this specific broth."

"Why the double dose?" Torian asked, carefully transferring the indicated parcels into the first wooden crate.

"Because the Wither-Rot originated in the Southern Swamps," Roxy explained, taking the charcoal and marking a large, distinct ’S’ on the side of the crate, followed by a thick black X. "That territory is ground zero. The infected beasts down there have had the corruption in their mana cores the longest. A standard dose won’t freeze the infection fast enough. They need the heavy stuff."

Torian nodded, his dark eyes tracking her movements as she efficiently managed the inventory. He watched the fierce, focused set of her jaw. She wasn’t just a mate to be coddled; she was the absolute, undisputed architect of their survival.

They moved to the next piles. Roxy sorted them by destination, creating a streamlined supply chain directly in her living room.

"This crate is for the Dragon Peaks," Roxy said, marking a large ’D’ on the wood. "Zarek’s territory is mountainous. The air is thinner, so the infection might spread differently. Standard doses here."

She marked the next three crates in rapid succession. ’F’ for the Fox dens. ’W’ for the Wolf packs. And finally, ’T’ for the Tiger Kingdom.

After an hour of relentless sorting, the chaotic sea of green leaves had been entirely condensed into five massive, organized wooden crates, packed tight and ready for immediate aerial transport.

Roxy dropped the charcoal, wiping her soot-stained hands on a rag. Her lower back gave a sudden, sharp twinge of pain, and a fresh wave of deep, bone-weary exhaustion washed over her.

The ’Tiger’s Vitality’ buff was potent, but it couldn’t entirely override the massive physical toll of her new pregnancy indefinitely. Her body was practically screaming at her to lie down.

And sleep more.

Torian saw her shoulders slump. He stepped forward immediately, closing the distance between them. He wrapped his thick, heavily scarred arms securely around her waist, pulling her back against his solid, burning chest to support her weight.

"You’re fading," Torian rumbled, his chin resting gently on top of her head. "You need to sleep, Roxy."

"I know," Roxy sighed, leaning back into his warmth. "I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my eyes open much longer. The pregnancy is wiping me out faster than I anticipated. Which means I might not be awake when Zarek and the others finally come downstairs."

She turned in his arms, resting her hands flat against his broad chest.

"Torian, I need you to communicate the deployment plan to them," Roxy instructed. "When they wake up, they are going to be completely disoriented. You have to take charge of the distribution."

Torian’s brow furrowed. "I will relay your orders. What is the plan?"

"We are dividing the pack," Roxy stated, her voice steady and uncompromising. "Every single Alpha King is taking a crate and returning to their respective territories."

Torian went perfectly still.

"Syris takes the highly concentrated crate to the Southern Swamps," Roxy continued, outlining the logistics. "He is native to the terrain, and his cold-blooded biology makes him the perfect delivery system for the heavy venom. Zarek will take the mountains. He is the only one who can command the drakes to stand down and eat the rations without fighting."

She pointed to the remaining crates. "Ren will handle the deep dens of his Fox Tribe. Kaelen will take the Wolf packs. And you, Rian, will take the final crate to the Tiger Kingdom."

Torian stared at her. His jaw locked so tightly the muscle in his cheek feathered violently.

"No," Torian ground out, his voice dropping to a low, terrifyingly feral octave.

"Torian—"

"I said no," Torian interrupted, his hands tightening around her waist. The White Tiger King shook his head, absolute refusal radiating from every inch of his massive frame. "I am not leaving you. I am not taking a crate to the Kingdom while you stay here."

"Rian, you are their King," Roxy argued, keeping her voice calm but firm. "Your people are starving and terrified. If a foreign Alpha drops into their territory, they will attack out of paranoia. You are the only one they will trust enough to accept the food."

"I don’t care about the Kingdom right now!" Torian roared, the sudden volume making Tanith stir on the rug. Torian immediately lowered his voice to a harsh, desperate whisper, his chest heaving. "You are carrying my cub, Roxy. You are in the most vulnerable state a female can be in. If all five of us leave to distribute this cure... that means you will be left here completely alone."

The thought of walking out the heavy iron gates, leaving his pregnant mate and the rest of the children undefended went against every single biological instinct he possessed.

"I won’t be alone," Roxy countered, refusing to back down. "The children will be here. Drax is here."

"Drax is a teenager!" Torian hissed, his eyes wide with panic. "He is strong, but he is not a King. If a horde of corrupted beasts breaches the perimeter, he cannot hold them off alone. It is not safe, Roxy. It is madness to strip the Manor of its Alphas. I am staying here to guard you."

Roxy let out a soft, heavy sigh. She didn’t yell, and she didn’t pull rank. She understood exactly why he was terrified. He had waited his entire life for a legacy, and he was terrified of losing it the very day he got it.

Roxy reached up, framing his face with both of her hands. She forced him to look directly into her violet eyes.

"Listen to me, Torian," Roxy said, her voice dropping to a fierce, unyielding whisper. "The Iron-Wood Manor is a fortress. Zarek melted iron spikes over the outer walls. Ren wove a master-tier illusion barrier over the entire estate. Nothing short of a god is getting through those gates."

She stroked his cheekbones, her touch grounding the frantic, feral panic in his mind.

"And even if they did," Roxy continued, a dark, incredibly confident smirk touching her lips. "I am not a fragile human anymore. I will be perfectly fine."

Torian swallowed hard. He looked into her eyes, searching for any trace of hesitation or fear.

"I am carrying a King’s cub," Roxy whispered fiercely, pressing her forehead against his. "And a King protects his people. Your Kingdom needs you, Torian. Take the cure to them. Save your subjects. I will be right here waiting for you when you get back."

Torian closed his eyes. A violent shudder wracked his massive frame as he fought the final, agonizing battle between his feral possessiveness and his royal duty.

The logic was flawless. The Manor was secure. Her plan was the only way to save the Beast World from absolute annihilation.

Slowly, his large hands slid from her waist up to her back, pulling her into a crushing, desperate embrace. He buried his face in her dark hair, inhaling her scent as deeply as his lungs would allow.

The White Tiger surrendered.

"I will run faster than the wind," Torian swore, his voice thick and raw with emotion. "I will drop the cure, and I will not stop to breathe until I am back inside these gates. I swear it on my life, Roxy."

He pulled back just enough to look at her face. The sheer awe, respect, and overwhelming love in his eyes were blinding.

He had never met a creature so utterly selfless, so incredibly capable of commanding an entire continent while standing barefoot in her living room.

Oh no, I am very selfish.

Torian gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lower lip.

"The Beastworld is blessed to have you."