(Yuuta POV)
I stood in the hallway of my home, watching my family move around in their own little worlds. The sunlight spilling through the windows painted everything in soft gold, wrapping the room in a warmth I hadn't felt in years.
On the sofa, Grandpa sat hunched with a newspaper in his hands. His glasses had slipped halfway down his nose, and every so often he muttered under his breath, as though arguing with the headlines.
Elena was stretched across the floor, crayons scattered in a chaotic rainbow around her. She giggled as she drew something only she could understand, clutching her little lizard toy in her other hand like it was the most precious treasure in the world. Her laughter filled the house, bright and unshakable, and I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips.
In the kitchen, Sister Mary moved quietly, preparing breakfast with a grace that always unsettled me. Blind—or so they all said—but the way she carried herself made me wonder. She moved as though nothing in the world was hidden from her.
And then my eyes landed on her.
Erza. My wife. My light.
She was curled up on the sofa, a book resting in her hands, her gaze flicking between the page and the glowing television screen. There was nothing extraordinary about the moment—yet everything about it felt extraordinary to me. The calm authority in her posture, the subtle way her presence filled the room, the quiet safety she seemed to weave into the air itself. Without her, none of this would exist. Without her, I would still be lost.
A lump caught in my throat, my eyes stinging. Did I deserve this? This peace? This family? Every time I had chased happiness in the past, it had vanished, slipping through my fingers like sand. But this time was different. This time it had stayed. And it was all because of her.
Erza.
I loved her more than life itself.
Her eyes lifted from the page and caught mine. Sharp. Gentle. As if she had read the storm of thoughts crashing inside me. A smile touched her lips—soft, knowing, almost playful. It was the kind of smile that melted every wall I had ever built around my heart. She lifted a hand, gesturing silently for me to wipe my tears before anyone else noticed.
I did, and forced myself to return her warmth with my trademark grin—the grin she teased me about, the one everyone seemed to know me by. But this time, the grin carried more than amusement. It carried everything I felt for her: love, gratitude, and a promise I hadn't yet spoken aloud.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt whole. Complete.
Please, God, I prayed silently. Don't take this from me. Not her. Not them. Not this life.
But even as I prayed, something inside whispered that no answer would come.
Knock. Knock.
The sound hit the door sharply, shattering the stillness.
My body stiffened.
"Who's there?" I called, my voice caught between irritation and unease. Then, muttering to myself, I added, "Come on, Yuuta, be serious."
I straightened, cleared my throat, and opened the door.
And then—my breath caught. My heart skipped.
"You…" I whispered. "You are… Headmaster."
Yes, headmaster was waiting outside my door with his secretary at his side. His arms were overflowing with letters and flowers—so many that he looked less like an educator and more like someone returning from a wedding.
But it wasn't the flowers that unsettled me. It was the silence. A heavy, loaded silence that clung to the air, as if something far greater was hiding behind his visit.
Did they finally realize? That Erza… that even Grandpa… weren't exactly human?
The headmaster cleared his throat, though his voice trembled when he finally spoke.
"Mr. Kounari… we are truly sorry for what happened before."
And then, to my shock, he bowed. Deeply. His secretary followed, lowering her head as well.
"Eh? Pardon?" I blinked, stunned. Was I really seeing this? The headmaster of all people bowing to me?
Behind me, Erza had stepped into the hall. Her presence was quiet but sharp, the kind of calm that made you realize she already knew how this would end.
The headmaster's shoulders sagged, as though he was carrying the weight of years in that single moment. His voice broke with regret.
"If it weren't for you… those children would have died. We were careless. Shamefully careless."
I flailed my hands quickly, my words stumbling out. "No, no, Headmaster, please—you don't need to bow your head to me—"
But he only shook his head, his expression almost painful to watch.
"No, Mr. Kounari. This old man was wrong. Let me carry the weight of my own failure."
I opened my mouth to protest again, but a gentle pressure stopped me. Erza's hand.
She leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered.
"Yuuta. Let him do what he must. He has a noble heart. A true noble always takes responsibility. Right now… he's drowning in guilt. Don't rob him of the only thing he can offer—his apology."
Her words froze me in place. I turned to look at her, and her eyes—cold, steady, yet not unkind—held mine. She meant every word.
The headmaster straightened slightly, though his voice cracked once more.
"I am sorry… for troubling you and your family. We should have vetted the Security Agency more thoroughly. It was our negligence… our blindness… that led to this disaster."
I stared at him—an old man breaking under the weight of his own remorse—and my chest tightened with pity. Slowly, I lifted my hand and placed it on his shoulder.
"Headmaster… everything is alright now. Yes, we were unarmed. Yes, it was dangerous. But those children are safe. And if you ask me… it wasn't me who saved them. It was God's will that they were saved through me."
"I am truly sorry," the Headmaster said again, bowing so low I thought his back might snap. "Please accept our apology. As recognition of your bravery and heroic act, we've decided to grant Elena a full scholarship. It's the least we can do for you."
"Scholarship…?" My brain stalled. My jaw nearly dislocated as the words echoed in my head. My fingers twitched, itching to grab the man's collar—just to confirm I hadn't misheard. "Wait—did you just say scholarship?"
For a middle-class family like mine, this wasn't just good news. This was the ultimate jackpot. Winning the lottery, stumbling upon a pirate's treasure chest, and finding out your favorite store was running a permanent buy-one-get-ten-free sale—all rolled into one glorious miracle.
I'd already been bracing myself for the grind. Multiple jobs. Sleepless nights. Maybe even selling a kidney on the black market—don't ask how I knew that was an option—just to keep up with tuition. But now? Done. Wiped clean.
I nearly dropped to my knees in gratitude then and there, but pride—and the sharp gaze of my dragon-queen wife—kept me standing. (Let's be real, Erza would never let me live down a breakdown in the front doorway.)
The Headmaster straightened and, with a small smile, revealed what he had clearly saved for the grand finale. Two enormous baskets stuffed with envelopes. "These," he said with a flourish, "are letters from the parents of the children you saved. Over two hundred of them. Every single one is a thank-you."
He nudged the baskets forward. I bent down to lift one—and nearly dislocated my spine. The thing weighed more than my dignity after a bad pun. Without hesitation, I shoved the other basket into Erza's arms. (Sharing is caring, after all.)
"Please don't misunderstand, Mr. Kounari," the Headmaster went on, his voice gentler now. "Many of these parents come from… influential backgrounds. They wanted to thank you personally, but if their visits drew attention, it could create problems for you and your neighbors. For your peace, we arranged it this way.
"For myPeace," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "Oh—I just remembered. Headmaster, I searched through all the news channels about the Academy incident, but I couldn't find a single word. Not even a headline."
The Headmaster's gaze lingered on me, calm but heavy, as if weighing his answer. Finally, he folded his hands on the desk.
"Mr. Kounari," he said, voice deliberate, "I do understand your confusion. But if such matters were allowed to reach the media, our Academy's reputation would collapse overnight. Rest assured, the entire terrorist incident has been kept completely out of public view. Publicity would not only ruin us—it would complicate your life as well. I hope you understand."
I blinked, trying to take it in. The sheer scale of cover-up… it was almost chilling.
"Ohh… so that's why the media's been suspiciously quiet," I murmured, half to myself.
Beside me, Erza crossed her arms, her tone cool but composed.
"Hm. I understand, Headmaster. I would have done the same, if my own Academy faced a similar threat."
"Ehh?" The Headmaster raised a brow, caught off guard. "Your Academy?"
I almost choked.
"No, no—hypothetically! She was speaking hypothetically," I said quickly, forcing a laugh and waving my hands as Erza tilted her head, completely unbothered by the slip.
The Headmaster bowed once more, deeply. "Now, I must visit the other parents myself and seek their forgiveness on behalf of the Academy, Please Excuses me and Thank you again, Mr. Kounari. Truly."
And with that, he turned and left, his secretary trailing behind him.
I stood frozen in the doorway, holding a scholarship, two hundred letters of gratitude, and watching my wife—the terrifying, beautiful dragon queen—balance a basket of mail like it was the world's strangest grocery trip.
For once, I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or just faint in relief, Sure I love my life being married is blessing.
Loction:- Usa, Area 5.1 (Secret Base).
(Sara's POV)
The report in my hands felt heavier than steel. Every page was proof of the same horror—that Allen, the so-called Primodol, now awakened as a true Nefarion, was more wicked than any nightmare history had preserved.
He didn't just enslave his masters. He groomed them. The documents showed a chilling pattern: from the moment they were newborns, he whispered illusions into their fragile minds, shaping their pain, bending their fates, until the day he offered them a cruel choice. Every "contract" was never truly free. It was manipulation dressed as destiny.
I pressed the scanner. The sealed chamber door slid open with a hiss, releasing the faint metallic scent of sanctified alloys. The chamber itself was a marvel—white walls glowing with embedded holy sigils, chains forged from orichalcum, and endless layers of technology and magic designed for one purpose: to hold a monster that should never exist.
And there he was. Allen. Sitting in the sterile room like a king on a broken throne, shackled, yet smiling with the serenity of a man who owned the world.
I slammed the dossier against the glass. His eyes flicked lazily to the photograph of his supposed master displayed on the transparent screen.
"Allen Manstar," I said coldly. "We have your contractor's photo. Your game is over, Allen. Once we broke that bond, you will done for."
For the first time, I thought I'd see fear. A flicker of panic. A denial.
But instead—he laughed.
It was not joy. Not amusement. His laugh was jagged metal dragged across stone—slow, grating, cruel. It crawled beneath my skin, rattled my bones. My grip on my weapon tightened until my knuckles ached.
"You've lost your mind," I snapped, forcing my voice steady. "Laughing, when your master's death is about to—"
"Death?" His head lifted, and his gaze speared me like a blade. His voice dropped low, each word heavy, grinding. "He's been dead… a long time."
The air froze in my chest. "What?"
"He is dead." Allen's tone was colder now, absolute. Not a boast. Not a mock. Just a truth so solid the room itself seemed to bow beneath it.
"You're lying!" I forced the words out, clinging to reason. "We traced him. We know Aaron is your current master. You can't hide anymore."
Allen tilted his head, chains clinking with the movement. That smile returned—slow, deliberate, poisonous.
"Subharshi… Subharshi…" he whispered, savoring the word like a taste of wine. "I must admit, I am impressed. Your little team actually managed to uncover the identity of my late master."
His crimson eyes glowed as he leaned forward. "But no… I should not call him master. He was never more than…" His grin widened, teeth bared. "…my broken toy."
The word hit me like a blade to the gut. "Toy?" I repeated, my throat tight.
"Yes." His voice was almost purring now, mocking, indulgent. "But toys break. And he broke beautifully. Crushed—ah, crushed so magnificently—by the hands of my Eternal Master's wife."
He shivered, eyes half-closing as if reliving a memory too sweet to lose. "The snap of bones… the Shattering flesh… it was art. She was merciless. She is merciless. To cross her is death itself. She is Eternal Mistress."
I staggered back a step, my heart pounding against my ribs. Mistress? Eternal Master?
"How… how can you serve both masters?" My voice trembled, betraying the panic I tried to hide. "Don't lie to us!" I forced my hands to stay steady, but my mind was screaming that it was impossible. Two masters? That defied everything—the Law itself, reason itself.
He laughed, a low, chilling sound that made my stomach twist. "Oh my… how come a vampire becomes foolish?"
I ground my teeth, fury and humiliation coiling inside me. How dare he mock me while explaining the impossible!
His gaze, sharp and unwavering, bore into mine like a blade. ""Long ago, God said… when a man and a woman love each other with true, unshakable devotion, and are joined in body and soul through marriage, their lives become one. Their servant becomes hers, and her servant… becomes my master's servant. In this way, the servant serves both, as if they are one."
I lost my voice as I heard those words. They were the same words I had seen in the Bible, in countless holy texts… not just in this world, but even the Nova world spoke of those word.
And the way he described his master and his mistress… it was completely different.
He didn't speak like a chained beast. He spoke like a worshipper… like a zealot. And demons did not offer that kind of loyalty to mere mortals. When he spoke of his master, his tone was calm, reverent, filled with respect. But when he spoke to his master's wife… there was fear there, subtle yet undeniable, lacing every word. Unless… unless his mistress was no mortal at all.
Was Allen serving a celestial? A vessel of Superior being? The thought made my blood run cold.
I shouted at him, my voice trembling with anger. "Do you think I'll fall for your lies? You made up this story after we discovered who your master really is!"
He said nothing at first, just smiled—calm, unnervingly serene. Then, finally, he spoke. "Believe me or not… it's up to you."
"If Aaron's dead—prove it. Tell me where he is. Tell me how he died. Show me, then i believe you.!" I said.
Allen only leaned back, chains rattling softly, his smirk widening like a crack in the world.
"Why should I?" he whispered. "You are not my master. You are not worthy of my broken toy stories."
My nails dug into my palms. Rage burned with helplessness. This creature… this abomination… would never yield to me.
"I know Aaron was your master," I snarled. "I've read the reports. He killed his parents with knife and then he vanished, then rose as a star—until he disappeared again. That wasn't chance. He was building power. Building an army. Don't you dare mock me, Allen. I will uncover the truth."
Allen's eyes gleamed, bright with cruel amusement.
And then he whispered, almost tenderly—like a lover's murmur turned to poison:
"If you find the truth… you will only fear me more. You hate me even more..No you will lose the courage to look at me."
I paused at the doorway, forcing myself to give him one final look before leaving the sealed chamber. The chains rattled faintly, yet his eyes burned with a darkness that no prison could contain.
He was a wicked demon—there was no doubt about that.
But his words… they hinted at something far more sinister.
If he spoke the truth, then his master and his wife were far more dangerous than him. Who were they? What were their real objectives, hidden behind such shadows?
And if Aaron was truly dead… then the question that clawed at my mind refused to let go—
Who is the real Eternal Master and Mistress?
To be continued…
Credit scence:-
(Yuuta's POV)
We're truly sorry for not uploading on a regular basis… our poor Author has fallen sick and is now under strict bed rest. But don't worry—our tiny but mighty doctor, Elena, has taken charge of his treatment.
"Mr. Author," Elena puffed her cheeks like a serious physician, "you must sleep on time! Staying up late is bad for your health!"
"Yes, Doctor… I'm sorry, Doctor," Author mumbled pitifully.
"Good. Then please eat this medicine after having Mama's breakfast," Elena ordered with a smile.
"NOOO!" Author screamed dramatically. "Yuuta! Save me! If I eat her cooking, I won't live long enough to finish this story!"
"What did you just say?!" Erza's roar shook the entire house.
…And that was the last sound Author made before collapsing in fear.
Don't worry, dear readers. I'll make sure he survives—probably. Thank you so much for supporting our story, and don't forget to keep reading on Webnovel. We'll be back once Author recovers… assuming Erza's food doesn't finish him off first.