(Next Morning – Erza's POV)
The night slipped away like smoke. Sister Mary and I had spoken until the stars dimmed, our voices soft, carrying through the quiet house. Sometimes we whispered, sometimes we laughed, but our words always circled back to the same things—Yuuta, Elena, and the fragile little family we both wanted to protect.
Before dawn, I pressed my hand to her forehead and etched a faint glowing mark across her skin. A sigil only I could write. To the elves, it would be a warning: she was under the protection of the Dragon Queen. To her, it was a promise. If anyone dared harm her, they would face me. That was my gift to her—my way of saying farewell.
But the mark meant more than protection. It was a recognition of her devotion. Sister Mary had raised Yuuta when no one else would. She had endured ridicule, poverty, and loneliness, all to keep him alive.
Even now, knowing she would leave him behind, she chose his happiness over her own. That kind of love… it made my chest ache in ways I didn't want to admit.
By the time the pale light of morning filtered through the curtains, our conversation had wandered into softer places. Sister Mary told me small secrets about Yuuta, little things I never knew.
He was terrified of ghosts. He hated cockroaches with an almost childish fury. He despised carrots. And, of all things, he was afraid of gaining weight and ofcourse sleep talk.
At first, I thought she was joking. Yuuta—the man who had faced me without trembling—reduced to fear by something so trivial? But she wasn't. I bit back a laugh. Later, I would tease him for every single one of these little flaws. Later. Not now.
Now, the house was quiet. Too quiet.
We stood at the doorway. Sister Mary carried her small bundle of belongings, folded neatly, ready to leave. Elena clung to my leg, her little hands gripping my clothes as though she could hold the morning in place.
Yuuta stood close, trying to smile, but his eyes betrayed him. He was holding himself together by sheer will.
I had seen this before. That false smile, the tightness in his shoulders. Yuuta had always tried to carry his pain alone, hiding it behind humor or stubbornness. But this time, I wouldn't let him.
Today was the day Sister Mary would return to the Nova World. The scroll she carried would take her away from us.
I watched her one last time, the way her movements were calm, precise, practiced. She had lived through hardships no Elf should ever endure. She had raised Yuuta in a world that rejected him, given him love when no one else would, and shaped him into the man who now stood at my side.
And now, she was leaving. Not because she wanted to, but because this was the only way she could give him peace.
Elena's voice broke the silence. "Mama… why is Sister Mary leaving? Can't she stay with us?" Her little face tilted up, her eyes wide and confused.
Yuuta swallowed hard before answering, but his voice trembled despite his effort. "Elena… sometimes, people have to go home. Even if we want them to stay."
Sister Mary knelt, her blindfold tilted slightly as her hands found Elena's shoulders. "I will always love you, little one," she whispered. "But I belong to somewhere else. And your mama, your papa—they will always be here with you."
Elena's lip quivered. "But… I don't want you to go."
Yuuta turned his face away, his jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He was breaking, piece by piece, behind that fragile mask.
I stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm, steadying him. Not today, I told myself. Today, when the tears fall, I will hold him.
Because this farewell was not just Sister Mary's. It belonged to all of us.
Yuuta's voice was heavy, each word pulled out of him like it hurt to speak.
"Thank you so much, Sister Mary… for everything you did. For raising me, for teaching me how to stand when I was weak. I… I don't know how to repay you. But thank you."
Sister Mary smiled gently, the kind of smile that came from deep within her soul. Without hesitation, she drew him into her arms. Her embrace was warm and steady, filled with the love only a mother could give.
"Don't make me a stranger, Yuuta," she murmured against his shoulder. "I only did what any mother would do for her son. No matter what happens, be strong. That is all I ask."
He clung to her as if the touch might anchor him. "I will, Sister Mary. I promise… I'll be strong." His hands trembled where they rested on her back, as though he were afraid if he let go the moment might shatter.
I remained a step back and watched them. For one fragile heartbeat they were simply mother and son—no secrets, no strange origins, only the kind of tenderness that bends years and grudges into something softer. The sight lodged in my chest like a stone.
If anyone had told me before that an elf could care so deeply for a human, I might have doubted them. But here it was, before my eyes—proof. Then again, who would believe my own story? Who would believe that the Dragon Queen herself had chosen a human as her husband? A man who didn't even flinch before the Abyssal Threats that shook kingdoms.
My thoughts were broken by a tug on my leg. Elena clung to me tightly, her small body shaking with sobs.
"Mama," she cried, her red eyes glossy with tears. "Sister Mary is really going to leave us!"
I knelt down and gently stroked her soft hair, letting out a weary sigh.
"Not you too," I muttered, though my voice softened against my will. "I can hardly handle that fool—don't make things harder, little one."
Still, I let Elena press her face against my dress, her sobs soaking through. I lift her in my arm and held her close, my gaze shifting back to Yuuta and Sister Mary. This farewell was breaking more hearts than just his.
Sister Mary pulled back slowly and looked at us both. Her blindfold dipped as if she were taking one last, grateful look at the house, at the small family gathered in a circle of morning light.
She opened the door. I felt the air change—tiny hairs along my arms prickled. The scroll at her hip hummed faintly; the sigils, I had stayed up through the night, checking scroll again and again to make sure she would reach her destination safely.
She paused for second, then crossed the threshold. I knew—bone-deep—that the motion had set the spell in motion. There was no theatrical chant, no sudden flare. Magic in the hands of those who have carried it for centuries is quiet and absolute: a small, inexorable turning.
Sister Mary seized us both in another embrace, this time broader, including Elena between us. "Thank you," she said, voice breaking on the last word. "For the memories… for your kindness. I will never forget." Tears fell into the fold of her robe; she sobbed with a rawness that made my own breath catch.
Elena's reply was immediate and childlike and made the room ache with tenderness. "Grandma Mary—Elena will never forget you! Elena will remember you a thousand years!" She cried in a way that was more vow than grief, pressing her face into Sister Mary's chest as if to tuck that woman inside herself forever.
I couldn't stop mine. The first tear slipped, hot and ridiculous, down my cheek. It felt wrong—dangerous, almost—to be undone, but I was. It surprised me: how much the sight of a woman leaving could hollow out the ground beneath my feet.
Yuuta, however, stood differently. His face was calm, almost too calm, though I could see the pain behind his eyes. He didn't cry. Instead, he whispered with quiet strength, "Be careful on your way, Sister Mary."
She smiled through her tears. "I will, Yuuta." Her hand brushed his cheek, then touched mine for the briefest moment, as if leaving a final blessing.
And then it happened.
The door closed behind her.
A soft green light bloomed in the doorway—the color of new leaves after a spring rain, the unmistakable signature of elven magic. It wrapped around her like a gentle tide, delicate and alive. Slowly, silently, her form dissolved into it, fading as though she had never stood there at all.
And then she was gone.
The door remained closed. Yuuta hadn't even realized she was an elf until the very last moment. Now, all that was left was stillness. No glow. No warmth. Just absence.
Yuuta's shoulders sagged. For a moment, he looked like a child again—small, fragile, and utterly lost. He didn't cry, but his breath caught, as if he were holding all the hurt inside.
Elena sobbed into my dress, her tiny body trembling. I wrapped her close, my own tears finally spilling, though I tried to hold them back for her sake.
Outside, the morning carried on as if nothing had changed—the chirp of birds, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. The world's ordinary rhythms felt cruel, mocking the emptiness that had settled inside our home.
Sister Mary was gone.
I watched Yuuta, frozen, staring at the closed door. He wasn't blinking, wasn't breathing normally. For a second, I thought he had become soulless, his shock so absolute it made him unrecognizable.
Then, Grandpa appeared, quickly scooping Elena into his arms. She continued calling Sister Mary's name, her little voice cracking with grief. Grandpa carried her to the bedroom, trying to soothe her as best he could.
I turned back to Yuuta, who had collapsed to his knees. I moved swiftly, catching him in my arms just in time. This time, there was no holding back.
He wept into my shoulder, the tears he had held back finally flowing. I could feel the tension in his body, the pent-up sorrow of years compressed into this one moment.
He had tried to stay strong, for Elena's sake, but now there was no one to impress, no one to protect. Only grief.
I held him tightly, whispering his name, letting him let go.
Yuuta cried in my arms.
Every sob that left his chest felt like it was tearing through mine as well. For a long time, I never understood why I cried so easily when I was with him—why joy, sorrow, and even fear struck me so deeply at his side, but left me untouched, Cold when I was alone.
Now I knew.
It was the Dragon Bond. That invisible thread that tied us together, making our hearts beat almost as one. His pain flowed into me, and my comfort flowed into him. We were no longer just husband and wife—we were halves of the same soul.
I tightened my hold, cradling him as though he were made of glass. I lowered my voice, letting it soften until it was no more than a breath against his ear.
"Cry freely, my mortal. I'm here. You will always have my shoulder."
At those words, something inside him seemed to give way. His voice came in broken fragments, raw and unguarded.
"Why, Erza… why didn't Sister Mary tell me where her hometown was? Was I… just an outsider to her?"
I stroked his hair slowly, my hand moving in gentle circles. "She had her reasons," I whispered, though even to me, the words felt fragile.
But his questions pressed on, each one sharper than the last.
"Why didn't she tell me about my parents? I waited… I hoped… for years, I begged her for answers. Not once. Not once did she tell me anything. It's like they never existed at all."
His body convulsed with another sob, and my chest ached. How could I tell him the truth? That he had no parents, no roots to cling to, no past to claim. The cruelty of that truth was heavier than any sword I had ever carried.
He clung to me as if I were the only anchor left to him. "Erza… am I… a mafia's son? Was she protecting me from danger? Or…" His voice faltered, his tears soaking my clothes. "…or am I a monster's son, like everyone said?"
His words cut deeper than any blade, because I knew the truth he couldn't. Yuuta wasn't born. He was created. And the concept of parents… simply did not exist for him. But how could she tell him that? How could she destroy what little hope he still carried?
He buried his face into me, his sobs raw. Once, he had told me men were supposed to be strong, that they didn't cry easily. But now—those words meant nothing. He had been strong for too long. Now he was breaking, and all I could do was hold him together.
I cupped his face gently, tilting it toward me, though his eyes stayed tightly shut. "Yuuta," I said, my voice firm despite the ache in my chest, "it doesn't matter who your parents were. Even if you were born of monsters, it would change nothing. To me, you are my husband. Elena's father. The man who makes me smile even when I don't want to. That is who you are."
He gave no answer. His strength had run dry, leaving only the small, broken sound of his breathing. Little by little, his body slackened against me, his tears quieting. At last, exhaustion claimed him.
He fell asleep in my lap, his face still damp with tears.
I brushed my fingers through his hair, over and over, until my own hands stopped trembling. Watching him sleep like this—unguarded, almost childlike—twisted my heart, but it also gave me a strange sense of peace. For the first time, he had let himself break. For the first time, he had trusted me enough to carry the weight he always bore alone.
I bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Rest, my mortal," I murmured. "Today, let me be the one to hold you together."
And as the Morning Light came closer, I sat there in the stillness, his breathing soft against me, the fragile thread of our bond glowing steady and strong. For now, this quiet moment was enough.
(Narrator POV)
While Yuuta and Erza were still weighed down by the sorrow of Sister Mary's farewell, fate was already moving its pieces toward the next trial.
Far from them, across the quiet borders of Lebius, Sara Venom arrived with a prisoner bound in enchanted chains. Her prize was no ordinary creature, but the infamous Nefarion Demon—Allen, son of Verionca.
To Sara, this hunt was more than duty. She had buried too many human comrades, too many warriors she had trained with her own hands adopted human, all slaughtered by Allen's merciless rampages. For centuries he had stained the earth with blood, raising armies of lesser and greater demons alike, leaving Cities to crumble in his shadow. Sara had sworn long ago that this cycle would never be allowed to repeat.
And so, she carried only one resolve: kill Allen's master, and the demon's chains would break. End the bond, and Allen would be cast back into the abyss forever.
But destiny had prepared a crueler truth. The master she was going to kill was not some evil human or cult sorcerer from another world—it was Yuuta Kounari—Erza's husband, her dragon mate.
How would Erza react when the truth surfaced? Would she raise her hand to protect Yuuta, even if it meant shielding him from her own friend? Or would Sara be forced to accept the unthinkable—that the man Erza loved was bound to the very demon she had sworn to destroy?
The answer was drawing closer, step by step.
Then_
Knock..knock
To be continued....
Author Note :-
I know some of you might think Yuuta was overreacting when he showed his emotions so openly to his wife. But before judging him, let's pause for a moment and try to stand in his shoes.
In this world, Yuuta only had one person he could truly call family—Sister Mary. To him, she wasn't just a caretaker; she was his mother. Now imagine this: what if the person you loved most in this world—the one who raised you, comforted you, and gave you a reason to smile—suddenly told you, "I'm leaving. I can't come back. I can't even speak to you again."
Think about that for a second. How would you react? Could you really hold back your tears?
And Yuuta's pain didn't stop there. He already knew people around him were hiding the truth. He wasn't blind to it—he felt it. That betrayal, mixed with the loss of the only mother figure he had, broke him from the inside.
So when Yuuta cried, when he let his emotions flow—it wasn't weakness. It was the raw pain of a son losing his mother forever. I hope you can forgive him for being human… and maybe, just maybe, feel his sorrow with him.