(Grandpa Pov)
I lifted my gaze to the moon.
It was smaller than Nova's, paler, almost timid in the way it clung to the night sky. And yet, in its soft glow, there was a stillness I could not ignore—a kind of gentle persistence, as if it were trying to calm the storm I carried inside.
In my arms, little Elena slept. Her tiny breaths brushed against my chest, each one a fragile reassurance that she was still here, still safe. But children have a way of knowing. Even in dreams, they can taste the bitterness of their parents' fear. And tonight, her rest felt too deep, too heavy—as if she was carrying a weight far too big for her age.
I sighed. When did this happen?
When… did I start caring for him?
For Yuuta?
I had promised myself, centuries ago, that I would never entangle my heart with a human's life. Mortals burn bright, but they burn out fast—and all they leave behind are scars for those who remain. And yet, here I stood, unable to push away the worry gnawing at me.
It had been so long since I cared for anyone outside my own blood. I never imagined I would feel sadness simply because two people had fallen into grief—one who was the weakest, yet forced himself to be strong for her, and one who was the strongest, yet could not hide her weakness from him.
They loved each other in their own quiet, broken way. And instead of feeling joy for them, I felt… fear. A shadow loomed over them. I could sense it. It was coming for them. And if I did nothing… it might take her from me.
As her grandfather, I knew what had to be done—no matter how merciless it might seem. Better to be cruel now than to watch her heart stop beating later. I know the future that waits for them. And I know what grief can do.
I stepped back from the balcony and entered the living room. The elf girl lay curled up on the couch, exhaustion etched into her face. She had given too much of herself to heal Yuuta. I covered her eyes and ears gently; there was a reason she kept them hidden from him. Some truths were not ready to be seen.
Tonight, I would let Elena sleep here. Yuuta and Erza deserved their moment together.
As I laid her down, something on the shelf caught my eyes caught on a framed photograph. Yuuta, Erza, and Elena stood together.
Yuuta in a neat black suit, Erza in a flowing white dress, Elena between them in her school uniform. Three faces, each lit with a happiness so bright it almost hurt to look at. A family.
My chest tightened.
Yuuta was still young, but one day… he would age. He would weaken. He would die. And my Erza—if her love for him deepened any further—she would not survive losing him. And when both were gone… Elena's world would collapse.
My hands trembled before I realized it. My vision blurred. I had faced centuries of battles, kingdoms rising and falling, oceans boiling and freezing, and yet… this terrified me.
For the first time in an age, I feared something not because it could kill me…
…but because it could destroy the ones I love.
No.
I must end this before it is too late.
The longer Erza remains at his side, the more danger will circle around him—and by extension, around her. I have to make her see it. I have to make her understand. If she leaves him now, the wound will hurt… but it will heal.
If Yuuta does not die within the next sixty years… then I will take him from this world myself. And if he does… I will save them both, in my own way.
Cruel? Perhaps.
But cruelty is nothing compared to the fate that awaits a dragon consumed by grief.
Dragon Grief is not a wound—it is a death sentence. It devours the soul until nothing remains, until even the strongest are reduced to hollow shells that merely breathe, waiting for the end. I will not—cannot—allow the Queen of Atlantis to fall into that abyss.
Yuuta may hate me for it.
He may curse my name until his final breath.
Erza may even draw her blade against me.
So be it.
I tightened my hold on the thought, willing myself to commit… yet something in me hesitated.
No. Perhaps I am moving too quickly. There is still one thing left I must know before sealing his fate.
I must discover what he truly is.
If Yuuta is nothing more than a fragile human, then the path is clear—I will cut him away before he can shatter her. But if he is something else… something stronger… perhaps there is another way.
After all… dragons are cursed with low fertility. Even pure-blooded pairings sometimes go centuries without producing an heir. And yet Yuuta…
…he gave my granddaughter a child in a single night.
That alone suggests there is more to him than mortal blood.
Yes.
Perhaps hope has not left us entirely.
(Allen POV)
I stood before the tall iron gates of the President's residence.
"Hah… Subharshi, Subharshi…" I muttered, almost laughing to myself, the words slipping out like smoke in the cold morning air. "Who would have thought… my own demon contractor would crawl his way into power? To sit among the highest seats of this country's arrogance?"
Beyond the gates, the building rose in solemn majesty—grand, white walls draped with flags, windows gleaming like watchful eyes. Humans built such fortresses not out of strength, but fear. Always afraid. Always pretending their walls could protect them.
I have come to kill the President. Remembeing face drags me back to pitiful memories—back when he was just a trembling boy at some lavish party, begging for my help. And now, look at him… sitting on the throne of power.
Killing high-profile men like him—it's the only thing that gives weight to my existence nd worth praise from my master.
The marble steps beneath me felt cold, polished smooth by the footsteps of countless dignitaries. I took one step. Then another.
The earth shifted.
It wasn't the ground itself—it was the tremor of boots, the weight of rifles snapping up, the ripple of trained hands moving in perfect unison. Soldiers poured from every corridor, every hidden watchpost, until the plaza was alive with steel and breathless tension.
A grin stretched across my face. "Ahahaha… Subharshi, Subharshi… Humans never disappoint. Fragile little ants, eager to bare their teeth. Even when they already know how this story ends."
One soldier pushed forward, a megaphone crackling in his hands.
"You there! Butler! You are trespassing on a high-security government site. Leave immediately, or we will open fire!"
I tilted my head, mock curiosity lighting my eyes. "High security?" My voice was calm, almost playful. "You should see my master's home. Compared to that, this place is nothing more than a pantry locked with a child's toy."
The line of rifles wavered ever so slightly. Whispers passed between the helmets.
"Captain, what's he saying?"
"I don't know," the captain growled. His eyes never left me. "But the President's orders are clear—he doesn't pass."
A younger soldier spoke up, his voice shaking. "But, Captain… he's unarmed. He looks like any other man."
"That's exactly why I don't trust him." The captain's jaw tightened. He raised a hand to steady his men. "I'll try once more. I'm not spilling blood today. My wife's going into labor…" His words trailed, softer now. Then he nodded. "Yes. One more chance."
The soldiers held their breath as he stepped forward.
That was when I spoke, my words sliding through the silence like a blade.
"Captain… your wife. She's pregnant, isn't she?"
The man froze. His eyes widened, his rifle dipping ever so slightly.
"H-how do you know that?"
I smiled, sharp and thin. "Listen carefully. If you step aside, I will let you see your child's face. But if you point that rifle at me…" I leaned forward, my voice dropping into a whisper that carried across the plaza. "…you will die here. And your wife will cradle that child over your corpse."
The captain's face twisted, rage and fear wrestling in his eyes. His knuckles whitened on the trigger. A vein pulsed at his temple.
"You evil bastard!" he roared, lifting his rifle with trembling hands.
"Men—fire!"
The first volley split the night.
Rifles flared like lightning, their thunder echoing across the gates. Bullets screamed through the air—9mm, 18mm, every caliber they trusted to defend their nation. The storm came down upon me in a single breath.
But it was all for nothing.
The lead passed through me as though I were smoke. My body rippled, shadows swallowing the rounds whole. Not a scratch, not a drop of blood. Just the hollow thud of bullets vanishing into the void.
I tilted my head, watching their desperate barrage. "How… fascinating," I murmured. "I've studied these toys of yours—firearms, ammunition. So fragile. Yet you clutch them as though they were talismans against the dark."
The guns stuttered into silence. Smoke lingered in the air, bitter and sharp.
"C-Captain…" A soldier's voice cracked like breaking glass. His rifle trembled in his hands. "He… he's not human. He's a devil."
Ah. There it was. The word I had been waiting for. The flavor that made the air sweet.
Fear.
I breathed it in, slow, deliberate, as though savoring a fine wine. My smile widened. "Yes… Subharshi. Fear." My tongue brushed across my lips. "So intoxicating. I can taste it in your sweat, dripping from your very souls."
I laughed then—long, jagged, unrestrained. The sound clawed its way through the plaza, rattling in their bones.
"Ahahahahahaha!"
Then I walked forward. One step. Two. My heels clicked against the marble steps like the tolling of a funeral bell.
I saw it in their eyes—the breaking. The wet shimmer of tears, the hollow tremor of knees, the helpless dread. They knew. Even if they couldn't explain it, they knew their lives no longer belonged to them.
And then, as it always happens, one of them broke.
"N-No! I don't want to die!" the youngest shrieked. His rifle clattered to the ground as he turned, bolting toward the darkness.
My grin sharpened, cruel and deliberate. "Oh… my toy. How dare you show me your back?"
The shadow stirred. My arm elongated, splitting into darkness that writhed like living tar. From it, a blade-like claw unfurled—my Shadow Hand, a gift from my Eternal Master… no, from my future Majesty.
One flick. That was all.
The boy's scream cut short as his head slipped free from his shoulders, spinning into the dirt. His body stumbled forward a step, twitching, before crumpling lifelessly.
Silence. Then chaos.
The formation shattered like glass under a hammer. The soldiers scattered, discipline forgotten. Some fired blind into the night, their bullets wasted on shadows. Others threw their rifles aside, fleeing with the desperation of prey.
"Yes!" I roared, my laughter breaking the night once more. "Run! Scatter! Let your fear spill into the air!"
The courtyard reeked of terror now—thick, suffocating, sweet. I inhaled deeply, my chest rising with pleasure, shadow swirling tighter around me like a cloak.
"Keep going," I whispered, my steps steady, calm, unstoppable. "Let your fear drown you… and feed me more."
As I walked through the grand hall, laughter still clinging to my lips, I felt it—a strange, stubborn pulse beneath the sea of fear. Not defiance, not courage… but loyalty.
I turned my head.
There he was. The captain. His body trembled, sweat pouring down his brow, yet his hand was steady enough to raise a Desert Eagle and point it directly at me.
Fascinating.
I smiled. "Even in the face of death… you remain loyal. What a waste that you were born human."
His eyes burned as he answered, voice ragged but resolute.
"I am blessed to be human. You demons… you'll never understand us."
I chuckled low, amused by his defiance. "Is that so?"
"I will stop you," he roared, knuckles white around the gun. "I will not let you move against our master!"
I tilted my head, the grin never leaving my face. "Your loyalty has no boundary. Admirable… yet tragically blind. Do you even realize the truth of the one you protect?"
His breath hitched, but he did not lower the gun.
"The man you call 'master' hides in his palace while sending you to die for him," I said coldly. "He does not care who lives, who falls. To him, you are just a shield of flesh."
I stepped closer, shadows rippling behind me.
"But my master… ah, my master is different. Even weak, even fragile, he never hides. He faces danger head-on. When the world would recoil in fear—when they discovered his wife's true nature—he did not abandon her. He stood for her. He chose to fight with nothing but resolve. That is why he is born to be Ruler."
The captain's eyes wavered, confusion flickering behind his rage. His gun trembled, but he still didn't lower it.
I studied him in silence. For the first time that night, I hesitated.
He was a servant. Like me. Shackled not by power, but by loyalty.
Killing him would be easy. But turning him… convincing him to kneel before my master instead—ah, that would be a true gift.
A loyal dog was wasted on a cowardly master. But in my hands? He could be reforged into a soldier worthy of Majesty.
A man like him… he could have been useful. A loyal hound, stripped from his cowardly master and reforged in the fire of true purpose. I almost pitied him.
Almost.
Then his lips moved, and his words spilled like poison.
"I will die," he said, voice shaking yet steady with conviction, "but I will not serve him. For he is unworthy of being king and my Gun only protect, My own country."
The hall fell deathly still.
My smile froze. Then… it shattered.
A molten heat tore through me, boiling my blood, clawing at my chest. My shadow writhed at my feet, answering the fury that burned in my veins.
Unworthy? Unworthy?
How dare this insect, this trembling mortal, speak such blasphemy in my presence? How dare he stain my Master's name with his filthy tongue?
"You…" My voice slipped into a low growl, each syllable edged with venom. "You dare to humiliate my Master…?"
The captain's grip tightened on his weapon, but it was too late.
I moved.
A lance of shadow erupted from me, faster than his eyes could follow. It pierced his chest clean through, lifting him from the ground. His mouth opened in a silent scream, blood painting his lips as his Desert Eagle clattered uselessly to the floor.
I stepped closer, my voice a razor whisper in his ear.
"No one… no one… in my presence speaks against my Master."
With a flick, the shadows tore him apart—body reduced to ribbons of crimson that painted the marble in grotesque strokes. His loyalty, his defiance, his humanity—obliterated in an instant.
I stood over what remained, my chest rising and falling with the echo of rage. Slowly, my grin returned, sharp and cruel.
"Such a shame," I whispered, letting the blood pool at my feet. "You could have been remade. But loyalty without reverence is nothing but wasted breath."
I turned toward the inner chamber, shadows curling around me like a cloak.
"Your king hides behind you, Captain. But you died for nothing. Now…" My eyes gleamed, hunger in every syllable. "…I will kill him for my Master Will."
And with that, I strode deeper into the palace, leaving only silence, blood, and the stench of fear in my wake.
To be continue...