She drew her sword.
The moment the blade left its sheath, the world itself seemed to recoil. The atmosphere shifted violently, as if the land had recognized her intent and bowed in silence. The raging wind lost its direction, and even the roar of the ocean faltered for a heartbeat.
Her voice followed—low, trembling with restrained rage.
"Why," she murmured, "did you step upon this peaceful land?"
Mortivex answered not with words, but with motion.
It surged forward at full speed, its massive body tearing through the air as the tsunami behind it rose higher, swallowing the horizon. The sea screamed, ready to erase everything in its path.
She took a single step forward.
The ground beneath her feet hardened instantly, and the towering waves froze mid-motion, suspended like shattered glass caught in time. The tsunami became a monument of ice, looming yet powerless.
She raised her sword.
Her eyes were calm now—terrifyingly so.
"Cold Steel Slash," she said quietly.
"Eternal Sleep."
There was no sound.
No explosion.
No shockwave.
Not even Grandpa heard the slash.
And yet, Mortivex stopped.
A perfect line appeared across his colossal body. A moment later, the calamity split cleanly in two, as precise and effortless as a knife through soft meat.
Time resumed.
Despite being cut down, Mortivex's eye remained open. A single tear formed and drifted away as his gaze turned, one last time, toward the distant land where the Konuari family slept.
He searched desperately—for even a glimpse.
For his prince.
But death was faster.
His body fell from the sky, crashing down like a fruit torn from its branch, smashing into the frozen sea below. The impact shattered the ice and sent fragments scattering across the night.
Then, silence.
The monstrous aura vanished completely, as if it had never existed.
Slowly, she turned.
Her gaze settled on Grandpa.
The calm was gone. What remained in her eyes was sharp, cold, and merciless. She raised her sword again, the blade humming faintly as if eager for another kill.
This time, it was aimed at him.
Grandpa's blood ran cold.
He knew it instantly.
He could not win against her.
Not here.
Not now.
And perhaps—not ever.
She spoke again, her voice sharp and demanding, as she stared directly into his eyes.
"What is the meaning of this?"
The pressure of her gaze was overwhelming. Grandpa did not hesitate. In an instant, his massive dragon form dissolved, scales retreating into flesh as he returned to his human body. He dropped to one knee before her, lowering his head in submission.
"My queen," he said urgently, his voice strained. "It is not what you think."
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took a step forward, her presence pressing down on him like a mountain.
"What did you think you were doing," she demanded coldly, "allowing such a creature to appear in my mortal world?"
"You are mistaken, Erza," Grandpa replied, still kneeling. "I sensed the same aura and followed it to investigate. When I arrived, that creature had already surfaced in the ocean."
Her expression shifted instantly.
"What?" she said sharply. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," Grandpa answered without hesitation. "I engaged it, but it showed no interest in fighting. It didn't use its true strength or abilities. It was searching for someone."
Erza's eyes widened.
"You mean Silent creatures are coming for Elena here as well?"
"I don't know," Grandpa admitted. "Before I could extract more information, it suddenly dashed toward Nyro City. I tried to stop it, but before I could understand its intent or origin, you killed it. Whatever answers it carried died with it."
Erza bit her nail in frustration, her gaze drifting toward the distant city. She had believed this world to be safe—a place where Yuuta and Elena could live without fear. Now that certainty was beginning to crack.
"How," she muttered to herself, "can creatures from my world enter this one?"
Raising her arm slowly, Erza released a pulse of cold mana. The remains of Mortivex were instantly sealed, ice spreading across its shattered body until every fragment was frozen solid, preserving it in death.
Grandpa followed her gaze to the frozen corpse, and his expression darkened. Even now, even in death, Mortivex's eye remained fixed in one direction—toward the Konuari family's home—desperate, longing, as if still searching for one final glimpse.
But the calamity was already dead.
And whatever truth it carried had died with it.
Erza stepped closer to the frozen remains of Mortivex, her gaze tracing the enormous shape locked beneath layers of ice. Only now, with the danger silenced, did the scale of it truly register. Had she not sensed it in time, that calamity would have reached her new home. Yuuta, Elena—everything she was trying to protect—would have been erased without warning.
The thought alone sent a sharp tremor through her chest.
Fear flickered for just a moment before being swallowed by rage.
Her eyes darkened, veins standing out clearly as she clenched her fist. The air around her distorted under the pressure of her mana, and without hesitation, she drove her fist forward with overwhelming force. The frozen body shattered instantly, breaking apart into countless fragments of ice so fine they scattered into the wind, vanishing as if Mortivex had never existed at all.
Grandpa watched silently.
He had seen that look before—those eyes filled with the terror of loss. It was the same expression she wore when Yuuta had once hovered between life and death. In that moment, Grandpa understood he had made the right decision by separating them in the past. If he had not, the bond between them would have grown beyond husband and wife, into something far more dangerous and uncontrollable.
Erza slowly exhaled, steadying herself as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. The sun rose quietly, painting the sky in soft colors that clashed with the destruction left behind.
"We should return," she said calmly. "Before my mortal causes a scene because I disappeared."
Grandpa lowered his head respectfully.
"As you wish, my queen."
Without another word, the two of them departed, leaving the ocean behind as they moved toward Nyro City, unaware that the ripples of this night would reach far deeper than either of them expected.
By the time Erza returned home, the weight of the night finally caught up with her. The moment she reached the sofa, her strength gave out. She collapsed onto it without grace or concern, exhaustion overtaking her completely as she allowed herself to rest at last.
She had done enough.
Moments later, Grandpa arrived.
As soon as he stepped inside, his eyes swept across the room, and he paused. The scene before him was nothing short of chaos. One side of the wall was frozen solid, the frost creeping outward like the aftermath of a forgotten battle. The sofa was occupied by Erza, sleeping deeply, her presence alone enough to make the room feel heavy. Elena lay curled up on the floor nearby, undisturbed despite everything. Yuuta was sprawled out asleep not far away, while in the corner, Allen remained unconscious, thrown aside like an afterthought.
Grandpa stared at them for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
"What a strange family," he murmured softly.
Moving carefully, he began setting things right. He lifted Elena first, gentle despite his age, and carried her to the bed, tucking her in without waking her. Yuuta followed soon after, placed beside her, his breathing steady and peaceful. Grandpa made sure they were comfortable before stepping away.
He glanced at Erza next but stopped himself.
Disturbing her now would be like waking a sleeping lion.
So he left her as she was.
With the house finally quiet, Grandpa stepped outside to the Banyan tree. He prepared a simple resting place for himself beneath its wide branches and lay down, watching as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. Warm light filtered through the leaves, washing away the remnants of the night's tension.
"What a surprising way to begin the day," he said quietly to himself, his voice low and restrained.
His gaze slowly drifted toward the house, lingering there as if searching for reassurance. The sight of it should have brought him peace, yet unease continued to coil in his chest. Those creatures had begun appearing here as well, and no matter how many times he thought about it, the reason remained unclear.
He could not understand why they hunted both dragons and humans alike. There was no obvious benefit, no distinction in their violence. It was as if their purpose was annihilation itself rather than conquest or revenge.
Letting out a slow sigh, he continued thinking aloud.
"Long ago, these creatures attacked every Dragon Kingdom without discrimination," he said, his expression tightening as memories resurfaced. "No clan was spared. No territory was respected."
In those days, fire dragons, ice dragons, and ancient bloodlines all suffered equally. The attacks were sudden, merciless, and devoid of logic. But that pattern no longer held true.
"In the past few years," he went on, his tone darkening, "their focus shifted."
Now, only Atlantis Kingdom bore the brunt of their aggression.
The timing unsettled him.
"As soon as Elena and Yuri were born," he murmured, "the attacks became more frequent."
That coincidence was too precise to ignore.
The only reason Atlantis had survived this long was Erza. She had grown into an overwhelming existence, one capable of suppressing even calamity-class threats. Without her, the kingdom would have fallen long ago under the relentless pressure of continuous assaults.
Yet despite that, doubt lingered.
"The question that still troubles me," he said quietly, "is who they are truly after."
His thoughts turned inward.
"Is it Elena?" he wondered. "Or Yuri?"
Elena's red eye was certainly abnormal. Many connected it to the Sons of Disaster, an omen spoken of in fearful legends. But he knew better.
"No," he said after a moment. "That alone cannot be the reason."
Elena had inherited that red eye from Yuuta, and Yuuta himself was a modified existence, altered by design. The Eden humans had deliberately exaggerated the meaning of red eyes to instill fear, but in truth, it was nothing more than an unusual physical trait.
Then there was Yuri.
"Yuri's aura is different," he admitted, his brow furrowing. "Even compared to Erza."
There was something sharp and unfamiliar about it, something that did not align with known dragon lineage. For a time, he had suspected that Yuri's presence might be attracting those creatures.
"But no," he said firmly. "There's no evidence."
That left only one answer.
"Erza," he said softly.
In the past year alone, she had created a Zani Core, a feat that elevated her power beyond conventional limits. That single act had reshaped the balance of power across the region, creating a gap so vast that even ancient forces were forced to take notice.
Because of her, Atlantis Kingdom had risen to become the second most powerful force in the entire region.
And power like that never went unnoticed.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening.
With that thought, Grandpa closed his eyes, letting the calm morning carry him into rest, unaware that peace, in this family, was never meant to last for long.
World:- Nova
Place: Silent Lair
The Silent Lair lay deep within the Cursed Land of Nova—a forbidden territory so vast it eclipsed several Earths combined. No sunlight ever reached this place. Darkness ruled absolutely, and the shadows themselves seemed alive, clinging to the land like a second skin.
At the very center of this cursed expanse stood a dark castle, towering and ancient. Its black walls carried the weight of countless eras, stained by blood, curses, and forgotten wars. Even time appeared reluctant to flow within its domain.
Inside the grand hall of the castle, ten figures sat around a massive obsidian table.
They were not kings, nor demons in the common sense.
They were high-ranking threats—existences whose mere presence warped space and crushed weaker beings. Each one radiated an extreme aura, dense and suffocating. Behind them stood several high-ranking demons, servants who dared not raise their heads, their bodies trembling under the pressure.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then, a man draped in a black robe slowly rose from his seat. His movements were deliberate, heavy with meaning. In his hand, he held an ancient stone—its surface cracked, faintly glowing as if reacting to unseen forces.
He took a breath before speaking.
"My Queen," he said, his voice echoing through the vast hall. "Mortivex… is dead."
The room stiffened.
"His heart has stopped."
A heavy silence followed.
The man's gaze shifted away from the council and toward the heart of the castle itself.
There, bound by enormous chains, was a gigantic black heart, embedded deep into the structure. It had remained dormant for ages.
Until now.
Thump.
The heart beat.
Then again—faster.
The man's eyes widened. The darkness in his pupils deepened as understanding struck him. Without hesitation, he fell to one knee.
"Forgive me, my Queen," he said, lowering his head.
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
They could feel the change—the pressure, the disturbance—but they did not understand its meaning. To them, it was merely a heartbeat.
But this man knew better.
Slowly, he lifted his head and spoke again, his voice strained.
"My Queen… there has been a mistake. Mortivex must have misidentified the Prince's scent. The information he provided us was incorrect."
The black heart continued to beat, its rhythm uneven, almost frantic.
"Mortivex was certainly killed by the Altanis Kingdom," the man continued carefully.
The heartbeat grew stronger.
Faster.
The signal was unmistakable—yet its meaning remained unclear.
Even he struggled to decode it.
Sweat formed along his temple as unease crept into his expression. The Queen was reacting to something Mortivex had discovered before his death… but what?
Time was running out.
He rose to his feet abruptly and turned toward the edges of the hall.
"Slaves," he commanded. "Record every heartbeat. Every change in rhythm. Write it all down."
Several slaves rushed forward, their hands shaking as they began documenting the pattern of the Queen's heart. None of them truly understood what they were witnessing, but fear drove them to work faster.
Whatever Mortivex had learned—
Whatever intelligence he had gained—
Had stirred the Queen herself.
And that alone meant one thing.
They had gravely underestimated the truth.
---
To be continued.