Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

​The dim atmosphere weighed heavily upon the Main Tower’s VIP Room. The fireplace embers were nearly extinguished, defeated by the winter chill seeping through the gaps in the stained-glass window.

Beneath the glow of the crystal lamp, Ethan Valen stood. This morning, he was dressed impeccably. A long-sleeved black dress shirt, tailored trousers, and pristine leather dress shoes.

His brown eyes gazed calmly out the window. On his left chest, the Horned Crown tattoo was securely hidden. The map to the northern village was already tucked into his trouser pocket. The Demon Lord was ready to depart.

In the darkest corner of the room, Valera Voss leaned in silence.

The female knight wore her sleeveless black leather armor. Her Zweihander was sheathed across her back. From behind her collar, the golden spiraling rose tattoo pulsed with static light. The bloodhound waited in absolute obedience.

Click. The door opened without a knock. Isolde von Rosenberg stepped inside.

The Vice Principal wore a navy-blue silk gown buttoned all the way up to the base of her neck, concealing the black rose tattoo on her back. However, her platinum blonde hair was left hanging loose.

She stepped toward the mahogany desk, placing down a brown leather folder.

"The documents you requested, My Master," Isolde reported efficiently. "An official field study permit bearing the Council’s seal. The premise: researching wild mana fluctuations in the north. I have already handled Sage Cornelius regarding your alibi."

"Good," Ethan replied simply.

Isolde’s icy blue eyes glanced at Valera in the corner of the room. The knight returned the look with a condescending smirk. No words were spoken, yet the tension between the two Northern elites felt thick enough to be sliced by a sword.

Isolde shifted her gaze back to Ethan. A subtle jealousy chipped away at her cold logic.

"My Master..." Isolde began cautiously, though her tone of protest was evident. "Are you certain about bringing her? Valera still needs to monitor the Northern intelligence following Alaric’s departure."

Isolde swallowed hard, gathering her courage. "I could accompany you. Kaelia is capable of handling the academy’s administration. My medical knowledge would be far more useful in finding this Priestess than..." Isolde glanced at Valera again, "...an executioner."

From the dark corner, Valera scoffed softly. Her eyes narrowed in challenge.

Ethan didn’t counter the argument. There was no debate.

He turned around, stepping slowly to close the distance until the tips of his shoes nearly touched Isolde’s gown. The woman held her breath, looking up at the calm face before her.

Ethan’s right fingers reached out. Very slowly, he touched Isolde’s jaw.

His fingertips traced her cold cheekbones, sliding down to the Archmage’s chin. The touch was as light as a goose feather, but its effect hit like a lightning bolt.

Ethan channeled pure Sin Mana from skin to skin.

THUMP!

The sprawling black rose root tattoo across Isolde’s back reacted ferociously. Its purple glow was blinding, piercing straight through the silk layers of her navy-blue gown.

"Ah...!"

Isolde jolted violently. Her knees trembled, completely drained of strength. She was forced to grip the edge of the mahogany desk so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her pale cheeks instantly flushed a deep, burning red, her breathing turning into greedy gasps.

That jolt of arousal and dominance obliterated every argument in her head. Isolde bowed her head deeply, unable to meet the Devil’s gaze.

"You are staying here, Isolde," Ethan commanded. Leaving absolutely no room for negotiation.

"I-I... understand, My Master," Isolde whispered breathlessly, accepting the verdict without protest.

In the corner of the room, Valera watched the show with golden eyes sparkling in satisfaction. Her feral smirk grew wider seeing her rival forced to submit so effortlessly.

Ethan released his touch. He walked over to the oak bookshelf, twisting the small gargoyle statue supporting it.

Clack. Creeaak. The shelf shifted mechanically, revealing a stone panel leading to a secret passage. The scent of earth and frozen moss instantly wafted out.

Valera pushed herself off the wall.

"I will follow via the forest route, My Master," Valera reported. Leaving side-by-side would only invite suspicion from the patrols.

"Don’t get spotted," Ethan instructed coldly.

Valera smirked. With a single powerful thrust, she vaulted out through the stained-glass window. Her shadow flashed through the air, then vanished, swallowed by the snow fog.

Before entering the damp passage, Ethan glanced back at Isolde, who was still regulating her breathing while leaning against the desk.

Isolde bowed deeply. Her loyalty remained completely intact.

"Have a safe journey, My Master," she whispered softly.

Ethan gave a small nod. He stepped into the darkness. The stone panel slid tightly shut behind him.

The passage was long and descended steadily, carrying Ethan past the academy’s foundation until it emptied into a small cave in the eastern section of the Zenithar Woods.

He pushed aside the frozen brush at the cave’s mouth. Just behind his heels, the academy’s magical barrier rippled faintly before settling back into stillness. He was now officially outside the Academy’s territory.

The Eastern Pine Forest stretched endlessly. A thin layer of snow crunched beneath his dress shoes. The outside air was far sharper, piercing the lungs with the scent of pine sap and wet earth. Far to the north, rolling hills served as the gateway to his destination village.

The first hour passed in absolute silence.

Then, a voice broke the quiet within his head.

"Yaaawn..." The voice of the Asmodeus System echoed. Her tone was no longer aggressive, but lazy and seductive like a large feline just waking up.

"Are you really undertaking a journey this freezing, My Master?" The System chuckled softly. "Are you certain this priestess in the middle of nowhere holds a miracle for Elara’s circuit? What if she’s just an ordinary village girl blown out of proportion by rumors?"

Ethan didn’t slow his pace in the slightest.

There is always something to be gained from a journey, Ethan replied in his mind, cold and brimming with certainty.

The System scoffed, her tone shaping into an invisible smile. "Of course. The Demon Lord never returns empty-handed. If it isn’t a new power... it must be a new woman, right?"

Ethan ignored the cheap teasing. Realizing her Master was reluctant to engage, the Asmodeus System fell silent.

The sky beyond the pine canopy shifted from gray to a pale orange, before sinking into a sea of dark purple. The snow began to fall heavily. The ice crystals clinging to Ethan’s hair melted before they could accumulate, repelled by the heat of the Sin Mana radiating from his skin.

When night fell, Ethan stopped beneath the canopy of a giant pine tree’s roots.

He gathered dry branches. With a single snap of his fingers, Crimson Sin fire devoured the pile. The blood-red campfire burned brightly, radiating an unnatural heat that utterly refused to be extinguished by the snow.

Ethan sat back, unfurling the map over his knees.

"Three more days of travel," he murmured, folding the map back up.

Far behind him, continuously tracking with lethal precision, Valera Voss moved through the trees like a phantom. The bloodhound lit no fire. Her predatory instincts required no warmth.

Meanwhile, deep in the heart of Zenithar Academy.

In her office, Isolde sat quietly in her grand chair. Documents lay scattered across her desk, but her mind drifted elsewhere. The Archmage’s fingers unconsciously kept stroking her own shoulder—the spot where her rose tattoo still harbored the stinging euphoria of Ethan’s touch.

Bang.

The door was forced open. Kaelia von Ashford strode inside.

The Southern Faction’s heir wore her red-and-gold Student Council uniform. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail. The girl’s brow was deeply furrowed, her golden eyes radiating an unrest she couldn’t conceal.

"Where is he?" Kaelia demanded bluntly. "I couldn’t find him in the VIP Room. That northern bloodhound is nowhere to be seen in the entire academy, either!"

Isolde let out a soft sigh. She took off her gold-rimmed glasses, placing them on the desk.

"Ethan is away, Lady Ashford. He has important business outside the academy for a few days."

Kaelia’s eyes widened. "Away? Where? Why wasn’t I informed in the slightest?!"

Isolde glared at the noble girl, as cold as ice. "Because you do not need to know, Kaelia."

Kaelia nearly exploded in anger. However, at that exact second, she remembered the incident on the balcony yesterday evening. How Ethan had silenced her with a painful surge of arousal through the Lust Brand, nearly forcing her to collapse.

Kaelia’s shoulders dropped. Her anger evaporated, replaced by an incredibly fragile desperation.

"I... I just wanted to be useful to him," Kaelia whispered to herself.

Witnessing that fragility, the walls of ice in Isolde’s eyes melted. The Archmage looked at Kaelia with an unfamiliar gaze—a bitter understanding from a fellow woman whose fate and soul were bound to the exact same Devil.

"You will be summoned when he needs you, Kaelia," Isolde said softly, devoid of any bureaucratic tone. "Just like me. Just like Valera. We serve him in the portions he dictates. And for us... that has to be enough."

Kaelia fell silent. She absorbed that bittersweet truth. Giving a stiff nod, she turned and walked out, returning to her own loneliness.

The moment the door closed, Isolde was alone once again.

Her arms crossed again, her hand touching her shoulder above the silk gown. Her gaze was blank, staring at the stacks of parchment.

"Be safe out there... My Master," she whispered to the silence of Zenithar.

Back in the freezing Eastern Woods.

The night grew deeper. Ethan sat quietly in front of his crimson campfire. The blood-red light reflected fiercely in his eyes, making his pupils appear as though they were burning.

In the distance, piercing through the roar of the storm, the howl of a wolf tore through the wild silence.

A lethal smirk carved itself onto the Demon Lord’s face.

"The hunt," Ethan murmured, his voice nearly drowned out by the crackling of the fire, "...has just begun."

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