(Erza POV)
Yuuta's sudden collapse hit me harder than any blade or spell could. We had just been preparing to leave for our new life, a place where our little family could finally breathe without fear.
Elena had been humming happily, Grandpa was teasing her about snacks, and Yuuta had been smiling in that quiet, gentle way only humans can.
Everything felt normal—peaceful, almost too peaceful. Then, in the very next moment, he clutched his chest as if an invisible hand had seized his heart. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air, eyes wide with shock and pain.
My instincts screamed, and I dropped beside him immediately, calling his name, but his voice could barely come out.
Grandpa didn't waste a second; the old man's healing magic flared around his hands as he pressed them firmly against Yuuta's back, trying to stabilize him.
"What happened to Papa?" Elena's voice cracked. She clung to my sleeve, eyes shaking, her little wings trembling even though they were sealed.Her fear was the kind that pierced deeper than any blade, and yet I couldn't answer her, because I didn't know either.
The answer came a moment later, not in words, but in a suffocating wave of demonic aura that seeped into the room from the balcony. It felt heavy, corrupted, and painfully familiar.
I stood up slowly and gently slipped Elena's hands off me, telling her to stay with Grandpa and watch over Yuuta.
I walked toward the balcony with every sense alert, every instinct sharpened. And when I stepped outside, I saw him—Allen Manster, son of Veronica—kneeling in a condition I never imagined seeing him in.
Black blood dripped from his mouth, each drop hissing as it hit the floor. His chest heaved uncontrollably, and a broken sword, glowing with dying holy light, was lodged deep into his back.
The holy energy inside it was eating him from the inside, devouring his life force piece by piece. That was when everything made sense.
Yuuta felt pain because Allen was on the verge of death. Their lives were connected, whether they liked it or not, and Allen's agony had echoed inside Yuuta's body.
I didn't have time to question it. Without hesitation, I stepped behind Allen, planted my foot on his back to hold him down, and wrapped my hand around the hilt of the sword.
He tried to speak, but choked on his own blood. With one forceful pull, I ripped the blade out of him.
Allen's scream tore through the air, raw enough to shake the balcony rail, as the holy energy burst outward in a blinding flash before fading into nothing.
The sword clattered to the ground, humming faintly as if still alive. Allen was left trembling violently, desperately trying to breathe.
He managed to croak out a few words—"M–My Eternal… Mistress…" he rasped. "That sword… the Will of Sword… it… it—"
"Don't vomit on my balcony," I snapped, flicking his blood off my hand. "You disgusting demon."
I clicked my tongue in disgust, more annoyed about the mess than anything else,
My attention drifted to the weapon lying at my feet. The moment I looked at it, a whisper slid into my mind—cold, hateful, and eager for blood.
It repeated the same command over and over again: kill the Demon King. Its voice felt sharp and invasive, as if trying to coil itself around my thoughts. I snarled back at it, my aura flaring with enough pressure to silence an army.
Kill the Demon King.
Kill him.
Kill him.
Kill—
"Shut up," I hissed, my voice deepening with draconic Aura.
The sword immediately shut up. That was when I finally felt the underlying curse—the binding will inside it. And suddenly, everything clicked together.
This wasn't just a sword; it was the Will of Sword, a relic that forced its wielder to inherit the previous owner's obsession.
It controlled emotions, manipulated desires, and shaped the wielder's life into a single purpose: complete the mission passed down by the blade.
Realization hit me harder than any attack might have.
This was Fiona's sword. The same cursed blade she always carried. The same weapon she trained with until her hands bled.
The same reason… she kept rejecting Yuuta every time he confessed. Not because she didn't love him. Not because she wasn't ready.
But because this damned blade wouldn't allow her to choose love. It chained her heart, fed her rage, forced her to live for revenge and duty instead of her true feelings.
Knowing that, I felt something tighten in my chest—an emotion I rarely felt, something close to sympathy. She must have suffered for years, trapped inside a body whose choices weren't entirely her own.
I bent down, picked up the blade, and let frost gather around my palm. With a slow breath, I encased the entire sword in a thick layer of ice, silencing every last whisper it tried to send into my mind.
Then I crushed the frozen blade in my hand. It shattered effortlessly, scattering into tiny fragments that drifted into the night breeze until nothing remained. It was not anger that guided my hand, but a quiet resolve.
Fiona had been imprisoned long enough, and whatever else happens from now on, at least this one chain was gone. She was finally free to make her own choices. What she does with that freedom… only time will tell.
Allen recovered faster than any normal demon should. His breathing steadied, the black blood stopped dripping from his wounds, and the unholy glow in his eyes returned to its usual sharpness.
When he finally rose to his feet, he didn't hesitate—he dropped to one knee in front of me, lowering his head with the reverence of a knight greeting his queen.
"My mistress," he said, voice steady but thick with exhaustion, "I fulfilled the mission you bestowed upon me. I acted exactly as instructed. I fooled Sara… and everyone. They all believe I have perished."
I nodded slowly, because it was my plan. The only way to give Yuuta a true moment of peace was to remove the watchful chains around him.
As long as Sara believed Allen lived, she would track Yuuta's every movement through the contract binding Allen's soul to her orders. I could not—and would never—let anyone control the man I chose as my husband. So I rewrote the script myself. A fake death, a staged disappearance, and a new path created entirely by my hands. Allen executed it flawlessly.
"You did well, Allen," I said. My voice was calm, but something sharp tugged at my senses. The faint metallic scent of blood lingered in the air… fresh blood. I narrowed my eyes. "You," I said coldly, "have you killed someone?"
Allen didn't flinch. He actually smiled—an amused, twisted smile that always reminded me why demons were hated across worlds. "Yes, mistress," he replied proudly. "To make the act convincing."
For a moment, I simply stared at him in disbelief. Then my jaw tightened.
"You what?" My voice dropped an octave. "I told you to create chaos, not slaughter half a city. Do you even understand the difference?"
He blinked, confused by the concept of restraint. I lifted my hand to rub the bridge of my nose, trying to suppress the irritation tightening in my chest.
"How many, Allen?" I asked, not because I wanted to know—but because I needed to know.
Allen tilted his head, thinking, as though the number didn't matter enough to remember. "Seventy-two," he said casually. "Or more. They were pests, so I didn't bother to count. But I followed your other instruction, mistress—I did not kill anyone from the Libeus Agency. They looked very eager to end me themselves, so I left them alive."
A cold shiver crawled up my spine—not out of fear, but out of realization. This was Allen without my restraints.
A creature born from chaos and perfected by madness. If I hadn't sealed his powers earlier… if I hadn't put chains on his existence… he would have been a disaster that could swallow nations.
And now he was stronger than ever, freshly healed, dripping with the scent of slaughter, kneeling at my feet like a loyal beast waiting for its next order.
I took a step forward and raised my hand, letting my aura gather around my fingers like condensed frost.
"I am sealing your power again," I said, my voice flat, emotionless, absolute. "For Yuuta's peace. For my family. And because you, son of Veronica, have proven once again that you are far too dangerous to let loose."
Allen bowed his head without resistance, accepting the weight of the seal even before it touched him.
Because no matter how wild the demon was
I was the only one he feared.
And the only mistress he obeyed.
Soon, everything began settling back into a fragile sense of normal.
Allen's power was sealed just enough to prevent him from committing evil deeds or dragging Yuuta into darkness, yet still strong enough to protect him from any threat on Earth. It was the only balance I could create without destroying him entirely.
With that done, I turned toward the hall. It was time to explain everything to Yuuta—time to convince him to accept Allen not as a monster, not as a nightmare from his past, but as his guardian. I wasn't sure how he would react. Yuuta's emotions were unpredictable at the best of times, and this situation was far from ordinary. But I had no choice; this was for his safety.
As I walked, Allen followed silently behind me. His steps were light, almost respectful… until the moment he saw Yuuta.
The second his eyes fell on him—Yuuta sitting on the sofa with a glass of water, Grandpa beside him, and little Elena leaning against his arm—Allen sprinted forward like a dog who had just spotted its long-lost master. He dropped to his knees so hard the floor shook.
"My master," he declared loudly, bowing until his forehead almost hit the floor, "I have returned to serve you with absolute loyalty. It is my eternal honor to be at your side once again!"
Yuuta froze. Completely.
For a few seconds, he didn't even blink—just stared with the expression of a man watching his worst nightmare crawling out of a grave.
Then his hand trembled. His eyes widened. His breath hitched.
Memories—horrible ones—were clearly clawing their way back.
"Y–You…," he whispered, voice cracking.
"You."
And then he burst.
"What are you doing here!?" Yuuta shouted, jumping to his feet. "Why are you kneeling?! What the hell is going on!?"
Allen didn't flinch. "I am here to serve you, my eternal master."
"Stop spouting nonsense!" Yuuta barked. "How are you even free!? What kind of sick joke—wait, wait, let me call Fiona. Fiona will deal with you!"
He grabbed his phone in pure panic, already dialing as if his life depended on it.
"STOP."
My voice cracked through the room sharper than thunder.
Yuuta froze instantly. Slowly, he turned toward me, fear shifting into confusion.
"Erza… what are you doing?" he asked. "That's Allen. The Allen. The demon king you guys have been searching for two thousand years! And he's right here in my living room! Are you—don't tell me—you're believing this nonsense too?"
I let out a long, exhausted sigh and pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose. "Listen, you idiot mortal," I said flatly, "he is actually right."
Yuuta blinked. "…Right about what?"
"He is your servant," I said, expression deadpan. "You are his master. Like he mentioned."
The glass of water slipped from Yuuta's hand and shattered on the floor.
He stood there, stunned, shaking, staring at me as if I had just told him he was secretly adopted by dragons.
"What… are you saying…?"
"I'm telling you the truth," I replied. "Somehow, through a very strange and stupid sequence of events, Allen formed a contract with you. He belongs to you."
Yuuta fell silent. A long, heavy silence.
He processed it slowly, painfully, like someone reading a horror plot twist written specifically to ruin his life.
"You mean…" he finally asked, voice trembling, "…I'm his… master?"
"Yup," I said, crossing my arms.
Allen nodded eagerly. "Yes, master."
Yuuta's eyebrow twitched.
"Which means…" he said carefully, "…I can do whatever I want to him?"
"Well… yes," I admitted. "In theory."
An evil smile slowly stretched across Yuuta's face.
Not a normal smile.
Not a happy smile.
No—this was the smile of a man who had been wronged, abused, tortured, and finally given divine permission to unleash every petty revenge he had ever dreamed of.
"Perfect," Yuuta said.
"Because I have been holding many grudges."
Before I could react, Yuuta unbuckled his belt, pulled it out with a dramatic whip sound, and pointed it at Allen like a weapon of divine justice.
"Alright, you piece of demonic garbage," Yuuta growled, rolling up his sleeves, "let's settle this properly."
Allen, for the first time in centuries, looked genuinely afraid.
"W-Wait—Master—this is not—Master, please—"
And then Yuuta began chasing him around the hall with the belt.
The legendary Demon King—terror of nations, slayer of civilizations—ran for his life from a furious human husband.
Elena burst into laughter the moment she saw the scene.
Her tiny hands clapped together, eyes sparkling with pure amusement as Yuuta chased the ancient Demon King around the living room like a furious parent disciplining a misbehaving child.
I stood there watching them—speechless, genuinely speechless.
I had seen Nefarions crush mountains, slaughter armies, command legions of demons.
I had seen them tear open dimensions, corrupt entire kingdoms, and survive divine punishments.
But I had never, in my entire immortal existence, seen them run for his life from a simple human waving a belt.
Yuuta swung it dangerously close to Allen's back.
"Stop running, you overgrown cockroach! Come here and take responsibility for my trauma!"
Allen yelped and ducked, tripping over the carpet as he scrambled behind the sofa.
"M-Master, please! Mercy! Mercy!" he cried, voice cracking in fear. "This is not dignified for either of us!"
Elena almost rolled onto the floor laughing, pointing at Allen with tears in her eyes.
"Papa is chasing a demon! Papa is chasing a demon!" she shouted, barely breathing from laughter.
If demons still recorded historical events, this would've been a tragedy.
For humans, however, this was prime entertainment.
Yuuta lunged again.
Allen screamed.
The belt cracked through the air like a holy weapon blessed by the gods themselves.
Even Grandpa stopped healing magic for a second, staring with an expression that said: I have lived 1000 years, and I have never seen this kind of nonsense.
And me?
I crossed my arms and let out a long exhale.
"…This is unbelievable," I muttered.
"The cruelest demon in centuries… terrified of a human with a belt."
And honestly?
I didn't stop him.
He deserved it.
To be continue...