(Erza's POV)
"Yuri Kounari… that is our son's name," I said softly, the syllables leaving my lips like a secret finally given shape.
Sister Mary's eyes lit up, her whole expression softening with a spark of almost childlike excitement. She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, as though the name itself was a treasure. "I cannot wait to see him—how he looks, how he speaks…"
Her eagerness stirred a reluctant smile from me. "He looks exactly like Yuuta did when he was small… the same round cheeks, the same smile. Just like the photographs you once showed me from those old albums." My cheeks puffed in mock annoyance as I added, "The only difference is his eyes—he has my violet eyes. And, of course, his body… is all Yuuta's. I was expecting at least a touch of white hair."
Sister Mary laughed, her gentle voice filling the silence with warmth. "It sounds to me like you love him a great deal. Perhaps I'll have to visit him personally one day."
I allowed myself a faint smile, though it faltered quickly. "You may. Someday, I will bring him to your kingdom. But, Sister Mary…" My voice hardened, my tone sharpening like the edge of a blade. "Do not provoke him. Do not compare him to other children. He does not take kindly to such things. His heart is… cold toward anyone who dares to insult him."
Mary chuckled softly, brushing aside my warning with her unwavering faith. "He only needs love, my Queen. When Yuuta meets him, I believe that love will reach him. Your husband has that kind of warmth. He softens even the hardest hearts."
Her words pierced deeper than she knew. My smile slipped away, and my gaze fell to my lap. The weight in my chest pressed down until breathing itself felt heavy. I couldn't respond. Not to that.
"My Queen…" she whispered suddenly, her voice shifting, fragile yet firm. "Is something wrong?"
I lifted my head too quickly, startled. The question dug beneath the armor I had worn so carefully, leaving me raw and exposed. Should I tell her? Should I speak of the sorrow I carried, of the cruel plan I could not escape?
Her eyes searched mine, steady and unflinching. Then, in a tone barely above a breath, she asked, "Are you… going to leave Yuuta too?"
The words struck me like a blade. My breath caught. My lips parted soundlessly as tears trembled at the corners of my eyes. "…Y-You knew?"
She gave me a sad, knowing smile. "I knew long ago. From the moment I learned who you truly were—not just Erza, but the Queen of Atlantis."
The title weighed heavily in the room, a crown I had never wanted but could never remove. My voice came out hoarse, edged with despair. "And yet—you still entrust his life to me? Even knowing this?"
Her answer came soft, but with an iron core of conviction. "Because I hate it as much as you do—that he will be left alone. That one day, without you, he may drown in his loneliness. But My queen… I believe in fate. I cannot blame you. Dragons live for five thousand years. Yuuta's presence in your life… will be only a fleeting chapter. A brief, fragile love story. And yet… that too is fate."
She pressed a hand to her chest, her eyes closing in prayer. "It is not ours to decide. God writes fate with His own hand. Who lives, who dies, who stays, who parts—that is His decree. All I can do is pray… that you find another way, before Yuuta reaches his miserable end."
Her faith was cruel, and yet—her words gave me comfort, like a candle in a storm. My throat tightened as I forced my voice out. "…Yes. I am searching. Grandfather and I both. If I find even the faintest thread of hope, I will seize it. I will not let Yuuta go. Not to fate, not to time."
A tear slipped down my cheek, unbidden. I wiped it away quickly and added, my tone trembling but resolute, "Until then… I will give him everything I can. I will secure his safety, his freedom, his happiness—even when I am gone. If I must leave… at least he will live without fear, without worry."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Only the silence clung to the room, thick and suffocating. For a moment neither of us spoke, as if words themselves were afraid to intrude. Then, unexpectedly, a laugh slipped from my lips—a sharp, almost bitter sound that startled even me.
"You know, Sister Mary…" I began, letting my voice carry a teasing edge. "Do you know how I first found this fool of a husband?"
She tilted her head, thoughtful, before shaking it gently. "I… I don't know, my Queen," she admitted.
I smirked, the memory tugging at me like a secret I had carried too long. "He forgot to take his clothes back. Just a t-shirt and shorts. That's all it took."
Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face. A thousand unspoken questions lingered in her gaze. "My Queen… you actually kept those? For all this time?"
"Yes," I murmured, my fingers brushing along the edge of my sleeve as though tracing the ghost of that fabric. "I couldn't bring myself to burn them. Couldn't throw them away. Every time loneliness clawed at me, I would take out that t-shirt… and breathe in his scent. It made him feel close, even when he was worlds apart."
A faint blush crept into Mary's cheeks, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "My Queen… that's rather lewd, don't you think?"
Heat flooded my face. I waved my hands quickly, stammering. "No! It's not like that at all! I just… I just wanted to remember his scent. So that if the day ever came when I needed to…" My words broke, softer now, trembling. "…so that I could kill him with my own hands."
Her smile faded, replaced by steady silence. Sister Mary's gaze did not waver. "Do not worry, my Queen," she said at last, voice low, calm. "I understand." She tilted her head slightly. "But… how did you find him? Simply from those clothes?"
I exhaled slowly, the weight of memory pressing against my chest. "I knew they were human. No elf, no dragon, no Atlantean would ever wear such things. So I went to the imperial prison—where we kept the humans. Prisoners meant to feed our hydra dogs."
At once the air in the room seemed to grow colder. Even Mary's posture stiffened, though she kept her silence.
"The prison halls were always quiet," I continued, my tone sharper, heavier. "Only the faint whimpers of prisoners echoing through the dark. Hydra dogs… they are addicted to human flesh. They eat nothing else. That was their curse—and our warning to the humans who dared trespass in our lands."
(Note: Hydra Beasts are typically found in the deeper regions of Lunia Forest. They have enormous, dog-like heads lined with razor-sharp teeth, their size rivaling that of a hippopotamus. These creatures are mindless, driven only by instinct, and cannot be tamed. They are addicted to human flesh, behaving almost like living zombies, making them extremely dangerous.
Difficulty: Savage Tier :- (A-Rank)
Mary's lips pressed together, her hands clasping tighter in front of her, but she did not interrupt.
"I carried the clothes with me, showing them to each prisoner," I said. "Most only stared in confusion. They had never seen fabric like that. But one…" My voice grew darker, quieter. "…one man recognized them instantly. A twelfth-generation hero. Brown-haired. Stronger than most of his kind, though to Yuri… he was nothing."
I paused, my chest tightening. "Yuri defeated him, when he was three year old. Alone. For no reason. Just to prove himself."
Mary gasped, the sound slipping from her before she could stop it. "Just… to prove?"
I closed my eyes, a bitter smile touching my lips. "Yes. That is who Yuri is. He never valued life—neither human, nor dragon, nor his own kin. To him, battles were game. Death… entertainment." I opened my eyes again, sharp and unyielding. "And yet… that hero—when he saw the clothes, his eyes widened. In that moment, I knew. He understood. He knew they belonged to someone from another world. And through him… I found Yuuta traced."
I let the silence linger before speaking, as if my words would summon ghosts back into the room.
"I brought the hero to the torture chamber," I said, my tone even, unshaken. "At first, I asked him gently. Again and again, I demanded to know about the clothes… but he remained silent. Not a word, not even a flicker of fear. That defiance…" I paused, letting the memory harden inside me. "It burned me alive."
I leaned back, my eyes unfocused, reliving it. "So I cut off one of his legs. I let the blood pool at his feet. And I fed that leg to the hydra dogs before his very eyes."
Sister Mary gasped quietly, her hands trembling at her lips.
"But he did not scream," I continued, my voice a cold edge. "Not once. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, and he bore it as if pain itself meant nothing. The more he resisted… the deeper I sank my claws. One limb after another, I stripped him down to nothing. Four gone in the end. Still silence. Still pride. So I regrew them… and began again. Until finally, his will cracked like glass."
Her body stiffened, horror plain in her wide eyes. I ignored it. There was no shame in truth.
"Only then did he confess. "He told me the clothes came from a distant world," I said, my tone sharp and steady. "A place called Earth—his home. He had been summoned by one of the three empires of Eden, the Nasel Empire. Every five years they perform a summoning ritual, dragging heroes from his world into ours. He was no ordinary man… he claimed to be an S-rank hero, the strongest among them. And yet…" I leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. "…he was sent to slay dragons without ever understanding what he faced. He did not know of the royal bloodline's power. And for that ignorance—he was defeated."
Sister Mary's breath caught, her knuckles white as she clutched her robes tighter.
I let silence hang for a moment before speaking again. "I asked him why he hadn't told me this on the first day. Why he wasted my time with silence."
My voice lowered, sharp enough to cut. "Do you know what he said, Sister Mary? He admitted he was afraid. Afraid that if I learned of his planet, I would destroy it. That I would unleash a single spell—something as meaningless to me as a whisper—and end his world entirely. To him, Earth was fragile. Powerless. And he feared I would erase it without hesitation."
The memory flickered vividly in my mind. My hands clenched, recalling the weight of his skull beneath my grip. "So I grab his hair in my hands," I said softly, my voice edged with steel, "and I demanded he tell me. Where was this Earth? How did his world even work?"
I let out a breath, my tone shifting, quieter now. "He told me his people knew nothing of mana, nothing of aura. Their world was bound only by science, by mathematics, by machines. A civilization of logic and calculation—yet blind to the essence of true power."
I reached for my sleeve, brushing the fabric as if recalling the shirt that had started it all. "He said this particular piece of cloth… came from a place called Lebius. A country of his world. It bore a mark—a tag, he called it—that revealed its origin, that's how I found Yuuta traces."
I drew a long breath, and my tone softened—but only slightly. "Do not misunderstand, Sister Mary. I do not care for humans at all. Their lives weigh nothing to me. I only love Yuuta. He alone matters to me. Every other life… is ash."
Her voice wavered. "And… what happened to the hero after?"
I turned my gaze on her, sharp and unblinking. "I gave him to Yuri."
Her face drained of color. "And… what did Yuri do?"
I smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it.
"Yuri did not simply torture—he crafted agony. He chose a butter knife, the dull edge dragging against the hero's flesh, peeling skin as slowly as humanly possible. Every scrape tore nerves open, every slice ringing louder than any scream."
"The hero endured at first. He clenched his teeth, swallowed his cries, tried to act unbroken. But when Yuri's blade carved deeper, when each strip of skin curled away like parchment, the man's resolve shattered."
He begged. He sobbed. "Please… I just want to go home… back to Earth… My Queen… save me…" His voice cracked into pathetic whimpers. But I heard nothing—nothing but the symphony of suffering. And I loved it.
"Yuri stripped him bare, every inch of skin removed and bundled. He ordered it stitched into a grotesque ball—his new toy. Then he took spices, rubbing salt and fire into raw, exposed flesh. The hero's screams were no longer human. They clawed through the palace walls, a sound so hideous even stone seemed to tremble."
"But Yuri was not finished. He called a healer. Flesh knit, blood sealed, the body forced back from the edge of death—only so the torment could continue. Regret flooded the hero's eyes. He cursed the day he lost to a child."
Then Yuri began again. Fingers first. Then hands. Then legs. Piece by piece, he carved him down like a butcher trimming meat. By the end, the hero was nothing but a torso, a broken doll twitching in a puddle of his own blood.
And only then—only when the man crawled helplessly, dragging himself inch by inch across the floor—did Yuri unleash the hydra dogs.
They fell upon him in frenzy. His screams gurgled as teeth sank deep, ripping flesh from bone. He clawed the ground until his fingers snapped. His blood painted the stone in rivers. The beasts tore him apart, piece by piece, until nothing remained but silence.
Through it all, Yuri never flinched. His gaze remained calm. Cold. Beautifully merciless.
Sister Mary's shoulders shook violently. Her lips parted, but no words came.
I let the silence stretch before speaking again, quieter now. "I am sorry, Sister Mary. I did not mean to frighten you with detail."
She shook her head weakly, her voice a fragile thread. "No… the damage is done. I see now… you truly would spill oceans of blood to protect Yuuta. And Yuri…" Her eyes lowered, unable to meet mine. "…Yuri is merciless. More merciless than even you."
The room fell heavy with silence. I did not deny it. I did not excuse it.
Because it was true.
And because Yuuta's life… was mine alone to guard.
I continued, my voice lighter now, though the shadow of what I had endured still lingered beneath each word. "After that… I used the Zani Core within me. A gift passed down by our ancestors. Zareth's power. With it, I could forge new spells… create what had never been written before."
My lips tightened. "But it cost me more than I care to admit. A flood of mana. Countless human sacrifices. A year of pain and obsession. And yet, in the end, I succeeded. I opened a portal to that fool's world. The spell led me directly to the place where his clothes were made—a factory of fabric and machines."
Sister Mary let out a soft laugh, her voice warm and teasing. "I'm sure Yuuta was surprised, wasn't he?"
A small smirk curved my lips, unbidden. "Yes. When I stepped into his apartment… he was fast asleep. Murmuring something about chicken with mayonnaise, of all things."
Sister Mary covered her mouth, laughing harder. "That sounds just like him! He's always trying to force everyone to eat his food. I'm certain he was dreaming of making someone eat chicken with mayonnaise!"
I rolled my eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. "I was going to kill him," I admitted bluntly.
Her laughter died at once. The air froze between us.
"I was going to rip off his face," I said, voice cold, merciless, unshaken. "For mocking my name… for making me suffer while I carried his child. I had sworn it. But then…" My voice faltered, softening against my will. "Elena crawled out of her blanket. She threw herself onto him, hugged his chest, and whispered, 'Papa, I missed you so much,' before falling asleep with her tiny hands clutching his shirt."
For a long moment, I had stood there—paralyzed. My fingers trembled, aching to strike, but my heart… my heart refused. I sat down on the sofa instead, staring at him as he slept. My thoughts tangled in chaos. What am I doing? Why can't I finish it?
He lay there, breathing softly, unaware of the storm I brought with me. And he was… handsome. Too human. Too alive. The sight of him stirred something painful in my chest. Something I could not kill, no matter how much I wanted to.
Sister Mary's eyes softened, as though she could feel the shift in me.
I let out a small laugh, remembering the moment that followed. "He suddenly bolted upright like some startled goblin, switched on the light, and shouted—'No freaking lizard in my bed!'"
Sister Mary laughed until her shoulders shook, tears gathering in her eyes.
I found myself smiling too, despite everything. "After that, he never stopped calling me the Lizard Queen. And that night… I realized I didn't want to return to Atlantis. I enjoyed watching him sleep, laugh, eat—every little thing. I wanted more of it. And now…" I exhaled, almost wistfully. "Here I am. That… is the story."
Sister Mary clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with delight. "What a story! If this were written as a novel, I am certain readers would love it."
I chuckled softly, a hint of amusement tugging at my lips. "Oh… actually, someone did write a novel about us," I said, trying to sound casual.
Her eyes went wide. "What?!"
I quickly waved my hand, forcing a laugh. "Nothing! Forget I said anything."
Sister Mary shook her head, laughing warmly. "My Queen… I just have one more question."
"Yes? Of course, Sister Mary," I said, tilting my head toward her.
"Can you tell me about the Throne of Atlantis? I heard it chooses its queen itself because of some strange relics."
I sighed, a small, exasperated smile on my lips. "Yes, it's true. But that stupid throne… it was so irritating at the same time for choosing me."
To be continue
Yuuta: "Hey, Yuuta here. I am sincerely sorry, dear readers. I hadn't studied this properly before and came to some rushed conclusions. After reading several novels and manhwas, I realized that dragons actually live for a very long time. Grandpa being only 1,245 years old was still too young—more like an adult or middle-aged—whereas we're talking about a true elder here. So, I've increased his age. Sorry, Grandpa! From now on, the age of Grandao is 3,023 years old."
Grandpa: "Noooo! Please, Yuuta… don't do this!"
Yuuta: "I'm sorry… but to keep the story consistent, I have to."
Miss Kano: "Gapu… you're… three thousand years old?!"
Grandpa: "Miss Kano, wait! I'm still young! Really, I am!"
Miss Kano: "We… we can't be together… please, forget me…"
Grandpa: "Noooooooo! My youthness! My love! My dignity!"
Yuuta: mutters under his breath "Well… at least he still looks exactly the same. Story-wise, that's convenient…"