Sister Mary stood by the door, her white robes settling around her as she folded her hands in front of her. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, catching her hair and giving it a faint golden glow. For a moment, she resembled one of the saints depicted in the old paintings that hung along the church walls.
She turned toward Yuuta.
"Please don't skip the campaign this year. I'll be participating as well."
Yuuta nodded quickly, relieved that the conversation was finally coming to an end. He had somehow survived Sister Mary's questions without revealing anything that might make his already complicated situation worse.
"Okay, Sister Mary. I promise I won't skip it."
"Don't worry, beautiful human," Erza interjected with a gentle smile, resting a hand on Yuuta's shoulder. To an outsider, she looked like a devoted wife reassuring someone who cared about her husband. Only Yuuta could feel her fingers tightening against his shoulder.
"I'll make sure my dear, innocent husband attends."
Yuuta winced. He knew that smile far too well. It was the same expression she wore whenever she discovered another opportunity to make his life miserable, and judging by the pressure on his shoulder, she was already enjoying herself.
"At least say it without creeping me out," he muttered.
Sister Mary chuckled softly before reaching for the door handle. However, just as she was about to leave, something occurred to her.
"Oh, I almost forgot. May I know your name, Miss Yuuta's Wife?"
Erza hesitated.
It wasn't that she disliked introducing herself. In Atlantis, the name of a royal carried centuries of authority, honor, and responsibility. For someone of her standing to personally introduce herself to an ordinary human was considered beneath the dignity of the throne. Even nobles were expected to observe proper etiquette when addressing the royal family.
Her violet eyes settled on the woman before her, taking in the blindfold covering her eyes and the gentle manner in which she had spoken to Yuuta. This was the woman who had raised that foolish mortal, who had cared for him when he had no family to call his own. Whatever Erza thought of humans, she couldn't deny the years Sister Mary had devoted to him.
For once, she decided to set royal etiquette aside. If nothing else, she could offer this small courtesy in return for everything the woman had done for Yuuta.
Erza withdrew her hand from his shoulder, her teasing expression fading into the composed dignity of a queen.
"My name is Erza Vely Dragomir."
Sister Mary's fingers tightened around the door handle.
The change was immediate. Her shoulders stiffened, and the faint smile on her lips disappeared. For several seconds, she remained perfectly still, as though the name had awakened a memory she had spent years trying to forget.
Yuuta noticed her sudden silence.
"Sister Mary? Are you okay?"
"Y-yes, of course." She forced a smile, though her voice sounded unusually strained. "I'm perfectly fine. I just remembered something I need to attend to."
Erza's eyes narrowed slightly.
That reaction was strange. She had expected surprise, perhaps confusion, but certainly not fear. More importantly, the woman's breathing had changed the moment she heard her name.
Does she recognize me?
"Sister Mary," Erza said casually, taking a small step forward. "May I ask you something?"
The woman's back stiffened.
"Yes, Your High—"
She stopped abruptly.
"Y-yes, miss. What would you like to know?"
Erza's expression remained unchanged, but her suspicions deepened.
Your Highness?
An ordinary human should have had no reason to address her that way. She had deliberately concealed her identity on Earth, and Yuuta himself barely understood what it meant for her to be the Queen of Atlantis.
Before she could question the woman further, Yuuta stepped between them.
"Stop it, Erza."
Erza raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Don't tease Sister Mary. Can't you see she's uncomfortable?"
"I was merely—"
"You were teasing her," Yuuta interrupted, his expression unusually serious. "Please, just let her go."
Erza stared at him.
The audacity of this mortal! Not only had he interrupted her, but he had also dared to lecture her in front of another person. Under normal circumstances, she would have made him regret opening his mouth.
However, Sister Mary's reaction had already raised too many questions. Erza decided not to press the matter for now.
"Very well," she replied coldly.
Sister Mary released a quiet breath of relief. Yet before leaving, she turned toward Yuuta once more, unable to suppress a question that had been troubling her.
"Yuuta…"
"Hmm?"
"Is it really all right for you to address her so casually?"
Yuuta tilted his head.
"What do you mean?"
Sister Mary hesitated, realizing she had nearly exposed herself again. Her fingers tightened around the door handle as she hurried to find a harmless explanation.
"W-well, she's your wife, isn't she? I simply thought you might address her more affectionately. Perhaps… darling? Or sweetheart?"
Silence followed.
Erza blinked.
Darling?
For some reason, the word sounded completely different when she imagined Yuuta saying it.
She pictured that foolish mortal approaching her with his usual innocent smile, calling her darling as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Worse, she could almost hear his voice, gentle and sincere, without the slightest trace of fear.
A faint blush crept across her cheeks.
W-what nonsense am I imagining?!
Erza quickly turned her face away, pressing a hand against her cheek.
Yuuta wasn't doing much better.
"I-I mean, I could call her that!" he stammered, scratching the back of his head. "But saying something like that in front of you, Sister Mary… isn't that a little embarrassing?"
"Oh?" Sister Mary smiled. "So you do call her that when you're alone?"
"WHAT?! NO! I NEVER SAID THAT!"
Erza's blush deepened.
"Mortal! Shut your mouth!"
Yuuta immediately fell silent.
Sister Mary watched the two of them with a complicated expression. Their embarrassment was genuine, and for a brief moment, she almost forgot the fear that had gripped her upon hearing Erza's name.
Almost.
She still needed to leave before the Dragon Queen began asking questions she couldn't answer.
"Oh, goodness! Look at the time."
Sister Mary slipped a hand into her sleeve and retrieved her phone. With a practiced movement, she activated its ringtone before bringing it to her ear.
"Hello? Oh, yes! I understand. I'll be there shortly."
Yuuta blinked.
"Sister Mary?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Yuuta. Something urgent has come up." She offered him an apologetic smile. "I'll see you at your practical examination. I'm looking forward to watching you cook."
"Ah… okay. Take care!"
She nodded and hurried out of the apartment.
The door closed behind her, leaving Yuuta and Erza alone.
For several seconds, Yuuta stood there staring at the entrance. Then he released a long sigh and leaned against the wall, grateful that the afternoon's interrogation had finally ended.
"Well, I guess there's no escaping the practical exam now."
He stretched his aching back, remembering the hours he had spent kneeling earlier. Between Sister Mary's prayers and Erza's endless teasing, he felt as though he had already survived an entire day's worth of punishment.
Unfortunately, his suffering wasn't over.
"Mortal."
Yuuta froze.
He slowly turned his head.
Erza stood a few steps away, wearing an expression that immediately made him regret staying in the apartment.
"Y-yes, Erza?"
"Did you forget something?"
Yuuta swallowed.
"Forget… what?"
Erza approached him, her violet eyes narrowing.
"Before you ran away this morning, I believe I made myself perfectly clear about what would happen when you returned."
Yuuta's face went pale.
"A-ah! About that…"
He tried to retreat, but something cold wrapped around his ankles. Looking down, he discovered a thin layer of ice spreading across the floor, binding his feet firmly in place.
"Wait! Erza! Haven't you already taken enough revenge?!"
"Enough?"
"Yes! You made me kneel for hours! You had Sister Mary praying over me, and then you called me your husband right in front of her! Isn't that enough humiliation for one day?!"
Erza folded her arms.
"Humiliation? How interesting. I don't recall forcing you to run away from me."
"B-but..."
"And as for calling you my husband…" Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Wasn't that what you wanted, mortal?"
Yuuta opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
There was absolutely no safe answer to that question.
Erza seemed pleased by his silence. She stepped closer, her shadow falling over him as the ice around his ankles thickened.
"Now then, my dear husband. Shall we continue where we left off?"
"Erza, please! We can talk about this!"
"Of course we can."
Her smile widened.
"You may apologize while I punish you."
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"
Yuuta struggled against the ice, but his feet refused to move. He glanced desperately toward the door, hoping Sister Mary might have forgotten something and returned.
Unfortunately, no such miracle occurred.
Erza raised one hand, and the temperature in the apartment dropped.
"Now, mortal…"
She leaned closer, her voice becoming a cold whisper.
"Let's see how long that troublesome mouth of yours can keep complaining."
Yuuta swallowed hard.
Dear God…
If you're listening, I think now would be a wonderful time for another miracle.
Unfortunately, the heavens remained silent.
And whatever happened inside that apartment afterward was something Yuuta would prefer never to discuss again.
___________________________
Meanwhile — Nocthollow
Nocthollow.
To ordinary citizens, it was little more than an abandoned district, a forgotten corner of the city where crumbling buildings stood behind rusted fences and empty streets.
But among certain intelligence organizations, the name carried an entirely different meaning.
For years, criminal groups had attempted to establish operations within its borders, only to retreat without explanation. Even powerful mafia organizations avoided the area, refusing to discuss what had happened to those who ventured too far inside.
Government intelligence agencies had also attempted to investigate the district.
The FBI, CIA, and several international organizations possessed extensive files on Nocthollow. Unfortunately, despite years of surveillance and infiltration attempts, none had managed to uncover what truly existed there.
Some believed the district concealed a secret military installation.
Others suspected an underground cult.
There were even rumors that the Illuminati operated from somewhere beneath its abandoned buildings.
Whatever the truth, one thing remained certain.
Those who discovered Nocthollow's secrets rarely returned to speak of them.
Tonight, however, several black vehicles approached a three-story building hidden deep within the district.
Their headlights illuminated the cracked pavement before the engines gradually fell silent. A group of men dressed in dark uniforms stepped out, their faces concealed beneath heavy hoods.
Without exchanging a word, they approached the entrance.
Two enormous figures stood guard beside the gate.
At first glance, they resembled unusually large men, standing nearly seven feet tall with muscular bodies and broad shoulders. However, their pale gray skin, unnaturally sharp teeth, and lifeless expressions revealed that they were anything but human.
One of the guards stepped forward.
"Password."
The men immediately lowered their heads.
"Hail the Demon Lord. May he become Zareth's follower forever."
The guard studied them for a moment before stepping aside.
"Enter."
The iron gate opened with a low creak.
Beyond it, the building's interior bore little resemblance to its abandoned exterior. Strange symbols had been carved into the floors, emitting a faint crimson glow that illuminated the narrow corridors.
Human skeletons decorated the walls, arranged in disturbing patterns. Between them hung paintings depicting burning cities, tortured prisoners, and witches consumed by flames.
The men kept their eyes forward as they walked.
They had visited this place many times, yet the atmosphere never failed to make them uncomfortable.
Eventually, they reached a large circular chamber.
Eight chairs surrounded a wooden table illuminated by several candles. Armed bodyguards stood behind the seats, but when the visitors entered, those guards withdrew to their assigned positions outside.
The men took their seats.
One of them cleared his throat.
"We have arrived as ordered, my lord."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the shadows at the far end of the chamber began to shift.
A tall figure emerged from the darkness.
He possessed long violet hair, a pair of curved horns, and eyes that shimmered with an unnatural mixture of red and gold. His appearance was almost human, though the demonic aura surrounding him made his true nature unmistakable.
The demon approached the table.
"So," he said, looking over the gathered men. "Have you brought the sin?"
"Yes, my lord."
The men immediately retrieved several sheets of black paper from their coats and placed them on the table.
Strange symbols covered each sheet, moving faintly as though something alive had been trapped beneath the surface.
The demon collected them one by one, examining their contents.
"One hundred... two hundred..."
His expression gradually brightened.
"Excellent. These offerings should please His Majesty."
He arranged the papers into a neat pile before looking around the table.
Then his smile disappeared.
"Wait."
The men exchanged uncertain glances.
The demon counted the occupied chairs again.
"Someone is missing."
Silence settled over the chamber.
The demon's gaze stopped at an empty chair near the end of the table.
"That human... the one who contributed nearly twice as much sin as the rest of you."
He paused, searching his memory.
"What was his name again?"
One of the men hesitated.
"Hemanth, my lord."
"Ah, yes. Hemanth."
The demon leaned forward.
"Where is he?"
The men exchanged nervous glances before one finally gathered the courage to speak.
"My lord... Hemanth is dead."
The demon's expression hardened.
"Dead?"
"Yes. He was killed inside his own building."
For several seconds, the demon said nothing.
Then he slowly narrowed his eyes.
"Who killed him?"
"We're still investigating, my lord. However, judging from the destruction left behind, the power involved was far beyond what an ordinary human should possess."
The demon's fingers tightened against the table.
"Was it the Blade of Phoenix? Or perhaps the Snow Wolf?"
His gaze moved across the room.
"Which Agency captain dared interfere with something belonging to the Demon King?"
The men immediately shook their heads.
"It wasn't the Agency, my lord."
One of them reached into his coat and withdrew a photograph.
The image was grainy, captured from a considerable distance, but the young man at its center was still recognizable. His messy black hair framed a face marked by anger, while his red eyes stood out even through the poor image quality.
"According to our investigation, this man was responsible."
The demon accepted the photograph.
He examined it briefly.
Then he looked up.
"An ordinary human?"
"Y-Yes, my lord."
The demon's expression turned cold.
"Are you telling me that you couldn't deal with a single human?"
The men immediately lowered their heads.
"Forgive us! Most of the surveillance cameras were destroyed during the incident, and we couldn't obtain any additional evidence. But everything we've discovered points toward this man."
The demon clicked his tongue.
"Pathetic."
He placed the photograph on the table.
"I entrusted you with a simple task, and now you're standing before me with nothing but excuses."
He was about to dismiss the matter when his attention returned to the photograph.
More precisely, to the young man's eyes.
Red eyes...
The demon frowned.
There was something unusual about them.
He couldn't explain it, but the longer he studied the photograph, the more an unpleasant sensation settled in his chest.
It wasn't exactly fear.
Rather, it was an instinctive discomfort, as though something about the young man contradicted what he should have been seeing.
What is this feeling?
The demon remained silent for several moments before placing the photograph down.
"Kill him."
The men raised their heads.
"My lord?"
"Did I stutter?"
His voice grew colder.
"Anyone who dares oppose the Demon King must be taught their place. I don't care whether he's an Agency member, a warrior, or some insignificant mortal."
He leaned forward.
"I want him dead."
"Understood, my lord!"
"However..."
The demon reached into his robes and withdrew another sheet of black paper.
Unlike the others, this one emitted a particularly oppressive aura. Its surface was covered in intricate symbols that shifted beneath the candlelight, causing several men to instinctively avert their eyes.
He placed it on the table.
"Before you kill him, put this on his head."
The men stared at the object.
They immediately recognized it.
A demonic aura stealer.
An artifact capable of extracting sin from a target and preserving it for delivery to the Demon King.
One of the men cautiously raised his hand.
"My lord, are you suggesting that this human possesses enough sin to be worth extracting?"
"That's precisely what I intend to discover."
The demon glanced at the photograph again.
"There's something unusual about this man. I cannot determine what it is from a mere photograph, but my instincts tell me he isn't an ordinary human."
He tapped his fingers against the table.
"If my suspicions are correct, he may possess a considerable amount of sin. Perhaps even more than we expect."
The men exchanged glances.
The demon noticed their interest and smiled.
"And who knows? If you manage to collect enough sin to please His Majesty, perhaps one of you might even receive a drop of the Demon King's blood."
The entire chamber fell silent.
A drop of the Demon King's blood.
For humans who had dedicated themselves to serving the demons, such a reward was beyond anything they could have imagined.
It offered them something far greater than wealth or influence.
The possibility of becoming true demons.
The men could barely conceal their excitement.
"Of course," the demon continued, leaning back in his chair, "that depends entirely on your performance."
They immediately lowered their heads.
"We understand, my lord! We won't disappoint you!"
"Good."
The demon pushed the artifact toward them.
"Extract his sin first. Once you've obtained everything you can, kill him and bring me his head."
"As you command!"
The men carefully collected the artifact before rising to their feet. They bowed once more and filed out of the chamber, passing the skeletons, ancient paintings, and silent guards stationed along the corridor.
Soon, their footsteps faded, leaving the demon alone beneath the dim candlelight.
He leaned back in his chair, but his attention soon returned to the photograph lying on the table.
After a moment of hesitation, he picked it up again and brought it closer to his face.
Those red eyes...
For some reason, they seemed strangely familiar.
"How peculiar..." he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "I'm certain I've seen those eyes somewhere before."
He searched through his memories, trying to recall where he might have encountered them. Yet no matter how hard he thought, nothing came to mind.
Only that lingering sense of familiarity remained, accompanied by an unpleasant feeling he couldn't quite explain.
"But where...?"
The demon continued staring at the photograph, his expression growing increasingly troubled.
"Where have I seen those eyes before?"
To be continued...