(Grandpa's POV)
"Pitiful child… born into the wrong world," I muttered, my voice low and brittle like old paper.
The boy lay still, arms stretched out as if he'd fallen asleep mid-reach. Faluni. A strange name for a stranger boy, but I remembered it now. Vividly.
He had died quietly—peacefully, even. A rare privilege in this world.
He'd chosen his dream over wealth and fame. A fool's path, perhaps…
But there was something noble in that. Something stubbornly human.
I didn't stop him.
Couldn't, really.
He had that look in his eyes—the kind of madness only dreamers carry. I saw myself in it once.
I sighed and knelt beside his body, brushing a hand over his tangled hair.
"I hope you reincarnate into a better world," I whispered, voice barely louder than the wind. "One filled with monsters. You'd probably like that."
There was no reply, of course. Just the distant hum of magic still lingering in the steel of his cursed sword.
Then, suddenly—
tug tug
Something small latched onto my leg.
"Great Grandpa!"
I looked down.
There she was—Elena, all puffy cheeks and fiery eyes. My granddaughter, barely up to my knee and already bossing the world around.
She never knocked.
She never had to.
"Oh?" I scooped her into my arms, brushing soot from her cloak. "My little dragon. Were you scared?"
She crossed her arms, defiant. "No, Grandpa! Elena is strong!"
I laughed gently. The sound felt odd in the aftermath of death.
"Yes, yes, you are. How could I forget?" I tapped her nose, and she giggled, squirming.
"Elena's the strongest!" she declared, throwing a tiny fist into the air. "Stronger than that human!"
I followed her pointing finger back to Faluni.
"Brave words," I muttered. "I'm sure he would've liked you."
Before I could say more—
BOOM!
The front door exploded inward, splinters flying like shrapnel.
"Where is he?!" a voice roared.
Ah.
Erza.
Queen of Atlantis. Slayer of mountains.
And, judging by her entrance—very annoyed.
She strode in with the kind of presence that makes the floorboards wince, her aura flaring cold and heavy. The ceiling cracked above her with every step.
"How dare you ruin my day!" she bellowed. "Where is he? Where's the Mobius boss?!"
I yawned and pointed lazily toward Faluni's body. "He died."
Her jaw clenched. "What?!"
"He's been dead a while, actually," I added.
Erza froze mid-step. She stared at me like I'd just spoiled the ending of her favorite battle.
I could feel the killing intent radiating off her—thick enough to kill me.
"I didn't lay a finger on him," I said, unfazed. "He died on his own. Burned out from within."
Her eyes narrowed. "You mean… he used that sword?"
I nodded toward the demon blade still humming faintly beside Faluni's hand.
She glanced at it. Her face shifted—anger still boiling, but now tempered by something else. Regret? Frustration?
"Tch… I got carried away again," she muttered, folding her arms.
A long silence stretched between us. Elena, sensing the tension, clung to my shoulder but said nothing.
Then—
"Hey… hey you," croaked a voice.
We both turned.
Tied to one of the pillars near the edge of the Ritual circle was a man, barely conscious, ropes tied in his arms. He squinted at Erza through a swollen eye.
"Are… are you that guy's wife?" he wheezed.
Erza blinked.
"…Guy?" she echoed.
He nodded, dazed. "The red eye and black hair guy.
" Yuuta."
There was a long pause.
Erza coughed.
"Well… I'm not technically his wife," she said, looking off to the side. "We just happened to get married. Accidentally."
She said it so casually, as if accidental marriage was a thing that happened all the time.
I raised an eyebrow.
"You happened to get married?" I asked.
She cleared her throat, suddenly very interested in the broken floorboards.
"It was complicated to explain him."
"Well… you have to hurry up," the tied-up man whispered. His voice was strained, thin and brittle like glass about to crack.
Erza turned toward him, her expression losing some of its fire. Her brow furrowed—not in rage this time, but confusion.
"Why?" she asked, her voice slower now, uncertain.
The man's eyes fluttered, and for a second I thought he might faint. But he forced the words out anyway.
"Because… he was kidnapped," he said. "By Allen. And they're going to do something… something terrible."
The room went still.
Utterly still.
Not even the broken door creaked in the wind.
Elena stopped fidgeting in my arms. My heart slowed, heavy in my chest. I turned slightly toward Erza, expecting her to shout, demand more, explode. But she didn't.
She stood motionless. Silent.
Her arms hung loosely at her sides. Her wings twitched slightly, but didn't rise. The light in her eyes—the fierce, arrogant gleam I'd known since the day she declared herself Queen of Dragons—dimmed.
"Yuuta… was kidnapped?" she repeated softly.
The words came out broken. Like they hurt to say.
She blinked, just once, and I realized her breathing had stopped. She inhaled sharply, as though she had only now remembered how to breathe again.
"Why…?" she whispered, barely audible. The question wasn't for any of us. She wasn't really asking. She was spiraling inward, into herself.
And then it began.
Her aura started to leak. Slowly at first, like a cracked dam. Unstable. The air grew heavy and dense, pressing in on all sides. The shadows along the walls deepened. The ground beneath us gave a low, warning groan.
She was unraveling.
"Taken by a demon," she muttered, and now her voice had weight again. "My mortal… kidnapped by Allen."
Her hands clenched, talons digging into her palms. Blood dripped to the floor, hissing as it struck the wood.
"Are they going to sacrifice him?" she continued, almost to herself. "Use his blood to summon something? Bind his soul? Turn him into—into them?"
I stepped forward, still holding Elena close against my chest. Her small arms wrapped tighter around me.
"Erza," I said gently. "Control yourself."
She didn't hear me. Or didn't want to.
The temperature dropped. I could see my breath fogging in the air. Frost began to bloom along the stone, creeping up like ivy. A auditorium window cracked from the pressure.
"Erza." I placed a firm hand on her shoulder, the same shoulder I had once helped patch together after her first battle. "Enough."
Her head snapped toward me, and for a heartbeat, I saw something in her eyes I hadn't seen in years—fear. But it passed too quickly.
She turned away, eyes locking on the man still tied to the pillar.
"Where?" she asked.
No emotion. Just demand. Just need.
The man—Rock, I now remembered—froze like a deer in a dragon's shadow. He shook his head, eyes wide, lips trembling with soundless panic.
"Where did they take him?" she shouted, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him from the floor.
The rope snapped, and he dangled in her grasp like a broken puppet.
His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
But no words came.
Just pure, naked terror.
And then—his eyes rolled back. His body went limp.
He blacked out. Soul overwhelmed.
Erza let out a low growl and tossed him aside. His body hit the wall with a solid crack before slumping to the floor.
Then, without a word, her wings snapped open.
It was like a storm unfurling inside my house.
Cold snow burst at the tips of her wings, snow spilling into the air like ribbons. The floor shook under her feet, cracks spidering out in every direction.
I stepped back instinctively.
And then she was airborne.
She didn't fly through the door.
She tore through the ceiling, ripping through the upper floor with a roar of magic and fury. Splinters rained down. Shattered beams groaned and collapsed behind her.
In seconds, she was gone. A trail of freeze marked her path through the sky.
The wind howled through the ruined hole in the roof. Dust curled upward into the early dusk, chasing the snow she left behind.
I stood there in the wreckage, holding Elena close.
She looked up at me, eyes big and uncertain.
"Grandpa," she whispered. "Is Mama going to… destroy the world?"
I didn't answer immediately. I glanced at the hole in the roof, watched the storm clouds gathering around the last place I saw her.
"…Possibly," I said at last. "But not if she finds him first."
{Location Soul mountain}
(Yuuta's POV)
"Please… please… I'm not the Son of Disaster…"
The words barely left my lips—choked, broken.
Blood followed them. Thick and metallic. It coated my tongue, poured from my mouth, and dripped to the cave floor below.
I couldn't scream anymore.
My voice was gone.
My body? A ruin.
Even breathing hurt.
The cold stone beneath me felt like ice against my bare skin. Every inhale made my ribs ache, every exhale burned. I was trembling—but not from fear. That had long since passed.
This was the kind of trembling that came at the end. When the body had nothing left to give.
My head hung limp. My neck couldn't hold it up anymore. My hair clung to my face—drenched in blood, sweat, and whatever else I'd lost over the past… hours? Days?
I didn't know anymore.
Time didn't exist down here. Not really if do I lost it long ag, here is.
Only pain.
And the sound of him.
That demon.
Xemon.
I couldn't see him, but I could hear him. Humming, softly—like a craftsman selecting tools for his next masterpiece.
He was always calm. Always patient.
He never raised his voice.
He never needed to.
He had already taken my teeth.
Snapped every joint in my arms and legs. Crushed bones. Dislocated shoulders.
He worked like a surgeon, slow and deliberate.
And when he was finished, he didn't leave me to die.
No, that would've been a kindness.
Each time I reached the brink, when my breath faltered and the world dimmed, he'd force that same green liquid down my throat.
It tasted like rot and ash. Like death pretending to be medicine.
But it worked.
My bones would snap back into place.
My teeth would regrow.
The pain would fade—just long enough for it to start all over again.
And then it would begin anew.
Every time.
I lost track of how many times.
And now… now the vial was empty.
He'd gone for my fingernails today.
Each one, pried from its bed.
Then my toes.
I hadn't screamed. I couldn't.
Even pain needed energy.
Now, there was nothing left.
No strength.
No dignity.
Just a pulse.
And barely even that.
If I lost even one more drop of blood, I knew my body wouldn't come back.
And honestly… maybe that was alright.
Maybe it was better this way.
Maybe this was the end.
Maybe I'd die here.
In this cave.
Chained. Forgotten. Alone.
I'd never see Elena again.
Her wide, bright eyes. Her stubborn little pout.
She always said dragons don't cry—but she cried the day I tucked her in and told her I had to leave.
And Erza…
Her voice echoed in my mind. Cold, clipped, always in control.
But when she spoke my name in the quiet—when she let the mask fall—it was something else.
Something warm.
Something real.
Would she be angry?
Would she come for me?
Would she blame herself?
I didn't understand.
What had I done to deserve this?
What sin had I committed, to earn a death like this—slow, brutal, meaningless?
Another tear slid down my cheek.
It fell into the blood below me. Disappeared without a trace.
In that red pool, I saw my reflection.
But it wasn't me.
It was a ghost.
A boy who tried to protect what he loved and was punished for it.
I blinked slowly, the burn behind my eyes almost worse than anything Allen had done.
"Is it… wrong?" I whispered to no one. "To protect the people you love?"
The silence answered me.
I wanted it to be cold.
But now, it wasn't.
Now it just felt empty.
"Please…" I breathed, my voice barely audible. "Just kill me…"
I didn't care if he heard.
There were no more tricks to play. No strength to fight back. I was done.
"I'm sorry… Erza," I choked out. "I can't… I can't do it anymore. Please forgive me… for leaving you behind…"
I turned my eyes upward, toward the ceiling. Toward the sky I could no longer see.
I imagined it.
Blue and wide and full of clouds.
I imagined her wings soaring above it. Her eyes scanning the world like she always did—searching for threats. Searching for me.
"I love you," I whispered. "So much, my wife… Thank you… for being in my life…"
And then—
It stopped.
The pain.
The fear.
The sound.
Gone.
No more chains.
No more blood.
No more breath.
Just silence.
Stillness.
Peace.
So this… this is what they mean when they say death is mercy.
Because for the first time since I was taken into this cave—
It didn't hurt anymore.
It wasn't cold anymore.
It was quiet.
And I finally…
Rested.
At last peace.
{Somewhere beyond pain. Somewhere beyond death.}
"Is it painful?"
The voice drifted through the silence like a breeze across still water—quiet, gentle… and aching.
It wasn't mine.
And it didn't belong here.
Wherever here was.
I floated in darkness.
Not standing. Not lying. Not breathing.
Just… suspended. Weightless. Empty.
There was no wind, no ground, no heartbeat.
Only silence.
And her.
A figure stood in front of me—neither near nor far. Cloaked in a soft, black mist that curled like smoke around her. She had the form of a woman, tall and graceful, but her face was veiled in shadow.
And yet…
She was crying.
Tears shimmered down her invisible cheeks, glistening like stars sliding down glass. They fell without sound, disappearing into the void below.
She raised her hands slowly—trembling. As if she wanted to reach me. To hold me. But feared she might break me into pieces that could never be put back together.
"Is it painful?" she asked again, this time softer. "Did they hurt you?"
Her voice cracked at the edges—filled with something raw.
Sorrow.
Guilt.
Love.
I tried to speak, but my voice caught. It wasn't fear holding me back—it was exhaustion.
The kind that seeps into your bones and steals even the will to remember your own name.
"It was…" I managed, barely more than a whisper. "It hurt. So much.
I was scared…" tear fell down from my cheek.
The moment the words left me, she flinched. Not from surprise. From pain.
She took a step closer. Her presence wrapped around me, warmer than it should've been, given how cold she felt to the touch.
"I know…" she whispered. "I'm so sorry.
I should have protected you.
I promised I would."
"…Who are you?" I asked, my voice quivering. "Why do you… sound like you know me?"
She knelt before me, her height now level with mine. A hand reached out, slow and trembling, and touched my cheek.
Her fingers were cold. Not lifeless—but ancient. Like something from before time learned to move forward.
Yet the way she touched me… was so human.
"I've always known you," she murmured. "Always watched you. Always loved you."
Her other hand cupped the side of my face. I leaned into her without meaning to. My eyes stung. The warmth of her words burrowed deep into places even Allen's blades hadn't reached.
"You didn't deserve this," she said. "None of it. And I wasn't there. I let them take you. I let them break you."
Her voice cracked again. Another tear fell.
I didn't understand. I should have pulled away—but I didn't.
Something about her… felt right.
Like I'd always known her.
Like she had always been waiting for me.
"I…" My breath hitched. "I wanted to see them again. Elena… Erza…"
"I know," she said gently. "You still can.
But not yet.
You need rest, my beloved child."
Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. Her embrace was vast, infinite—like I was being held by the very night sky.
"Sleep now," she whispered. "Let go of the pain. Let go of the fear. For I am here no one will harm you again."
I felt it then. My consciousness drifting. My body—what little remained—melting into her hold.
I was tired.
So tired.
I closed my eyes.
And her voice—once warm—grew cold.
Colder than anything Allen had done to me.
Colder than the chains.
Colder than death.
"I'll take care of him," she said softly, brushing her fingers through my hair.
The tenderness remained.
But something had changed.
Her voice was no longer mournful. It was… absolute.
"Again and again," she whispered, "this insect always find new ways to hurt the ones I love."
Her tears were gone. In their place, a quiet fury.
"I won't forgive this. I won't let it repeat, I don't want to lose you again. I will end it."
She stood now, still holding me like a mother cradling her wounded son. But something ancient stirred in the void around her.
The air grew heavy. The shadows trembled.
"This world," she said, voice like velvet wrapped around blades,
"has taken too much from me."
She began to walk—somewhere. The void itself parted for her. Her steps shook it. Bent it.
"I will make them remember what they forgot," she whispered.
Her grip on me tightened—protective. Possessive.
"For daring to touch you…"
Her eyes—still hidden—glowed faintly behind the veil of shadows.
"I will show them what Mother love looks like… when it is divine."
To be continued…