Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

​Morning in Dorfyk was greeted by a sunless, gray sky.

Thin snow drifted down, painting the village streets pure white. Smoke puffed steadily from the chimneys of wooden houses, carrying a sliver of warmth amidst the bone-chilling air.

Ethan Valen strode alone down the dirt path toward the northern edge of the village.

He had deliberately left Valera at Granny Marta’s house. Bringing an executioner-faced knight with a giant sword on her back would only make Miya cower again. He needed the Elf girl to think clearly.

His steps halted in front of the giant old oak tree. The healer’s small wooden house hid behind the wild bushes beneath it.

Ethan raised his hand. He knocked on the faded door three times. Extremely polite. Highly measured.

Before long, the sound of small footsteps echoed. The door opened a narrow crack, then was pulled wider as Miya realized who her guest was.

The petite girl wore a slightly wrinkled white robe. Multicolored stains from brewing medicines still decorated her sleeves. Her long blonde hair cascaded messily. Her light purple eyes briefly met Ethan’s, before she hurriedly looked down.

"E-Ethan..." Miya squeaked softly. "...you’re early..."

"Sorry to disturb your rest," Ethan greeted with a warm smile. "May I come in?"

Miya gave a stiff nod, stepping aside to make way.

Inside, Ethan sat back down on the wooden chair near the fireplace. Miya hurried to brew some herbal tea. Her movements were still incredibly awkward. The porcelain cup clattered loudly against the teapot, the wooden spoon nearly slipping from her trembling hands. Yet, not a single drop of water spilled.

After setting the cup down, Miya sat across from Ethan. She hugged her small notepad tightly against her chest.

"I-I’ve been reading cross-references all night," Miya reported without beating around the bush. Her researcher instincts took over. She opened her notepad carefully.

"This... isn’t a natural circuit defect. The blindness, the mana paralysis, the rejection reaction toward dark energy... Everything points to an Ancient Seal."

Ethan’s brown eyes narrowed slightly. "An Ancient Seal?"

"Y-yes," Miya nodded, a bit more confident. "A high-tier seal that was deliberately implanted. B-but... I can’t be one hundred percent certain without examining the patient’s mana fluctuations directly."

The young man fell silent. "So, you have to go see her?"

Miya’s body suddenly went rigid. Her fingers gripped the edge of her notepad until her knuckles turned white.

The Elf girl bowed her head deeply. "I-I... I have never left this village. It’s been so long... The world out there... I don’t know if I can..."

The fear was naked. Hundreds of years hiding from human hunts had implanted a deep social trauma. Stepping out of this shell was a far too heavy request.

Ethan stared at the trembling girl.

There was no pushing. No intimidation. No manipulative pheromones. Ethan instead did the most unexpected thing.

The young man carved his gentlest smile. "Take your time, Miya."

Miya looked up. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"I won’t force you to do something that scares you," Ethan continued with a soothing baritone. He stood up from his chair. "I will remain in this village. Just think about it first."

Miya froze. She thought this boy would get angry, or at least beg desperately for his sister’s life. But Ethan only smiled, turned around, and took his leave.

The girl escorted him to the threshold. Her light purple eyes kept staring at Ethan’s broad back as he walked away and vanished behind the bushes.

Light snow was still falling when Ethan returned to Granny Marta’s house.

The young man didn’t rest immediately. He took off his coat, leaving only his long-sleeved black shirt, and went straight to lifting a rather heavy pile of wooden logs.

"Oh my, lad!" exclaimed Granny Marta, who was sweeping the yard. "Put that wood down! There’s no need to trouble yourself, you are a guest!"

"Just want to repay your kindness, Granny," Ethan replied casually, stacking the wood neatly beside the fireplace. His fake sincere smile was perfectly in place.

The old woman shook her head in awe. "Young people these days are rarely as hardworking as you. If you insist... could you help me clear the pile of snow in front of the fence? These old bones can’t handle a shovel anymore."

"Of course, Granny."

On the porch, Valera sat leaning against the wooden wall. Her arms were crossed over her chest, exposing her biceps from beneath her sleeveless leather armor.

The knight’s golden eyes kept following Ethan’s movements as he shoveled the snow. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and nausea, watching the Demon Lord act like a virtuous village youth.

"Are you going to just sit there, or help out?" Ethan quipped without turning his head, continuing to shovel the snow as his breath plumed in white steam.

"My duty is to keep watch over your surroundings, My Master," Valera deflected in a flat tone.

"Tch. In this remote village that doesn’t even have a single guard?" Ethan retorted sarcastically.

Valera scoffed. "Precisely because there are no guards, My Master."

Their bickering was cut short when three little boys came running toward the porch. They stopped right in front of Valera, staring at the Zweihander on the knight’s back with wide, sparkling eyes.

"Miss Knight... is that sword real?" asked one boy, pointing at the blade that was larger than his own body.

"Is it heavy? Can you lift something as heavy as a bear?" chimed in the smallest one.

Valera stared at the three kids as flat as a board. "Go away. I’m not a spectacle."

Instead of being scared, the smallest boy reached out his tiny finger, touching the sword’s hilt. "Wow... so cold..."

Valera glared. She shot a sharp look at Ethan, demanding her master chase away these little pests. But Ethan was busy shoveling snow, pretending to be blind.

"Miss! Try lifting that big rock on the side of the road!" the boy pointed enthusiastically. "Come on, show us your strength!"

"Hah..." Valera rolled her eyes, letting out a long sigh as she held onto the very edge of her patience.

Rather than being constantly pestered, she stood up. Valera walked to the side of the road, then with one hand—and an incredibly bored expression—lifted a river rock the size of a grown man’s head. It looked as light as cotton.

"Hooray! So cool!!" The three boys jumped up and down hysterically.

Valera set the rock back down. Her face remained deadpan, but the corner of her thick lips twitched faintly, fighting back a smile. "Satisfied? Now scram."

The kids only crowded around her legs even more. Valera glanced at Ethan again. This time, she caught her master flashing a faint, irritating smirk.

Old Bart, the traveling merchant, passed by with his basket, chuckling at the scene. "Wow, the Miss Knight is quite popular among the kids, eh!"

"Shut up, old man," Valera grumbled sharply. Old Bart just laughed merrily and went on his way.

Ethan put down his shovel and stepped up onto the porch, passing Valera. "Hmm... you made them like you in just five minutes."

Valera looked away. "I wasn’t trying to make them like me, My Master."

"That is exactly why they like you so much."

Ethan spent the rest of the day scattering his charm of kindness.

He hoisted the heavy baskets of the fishmonger lady, which was met with an offer of free fresh fish. He repaired the collapsed fence in Old Bart’s yard. He tied ropes around young tree trunks so they wouldn’t snap in the storm. All done with a friendly smile without a single drop of complaint.

Far at the edge of the village, hiding behind the window curtains of her wooden house, Miya stood in silence.

Her petite fingers pulled back a tiny gap in the fabric. Her light purple eyes followed Ethan’s every move from afar.

Miya saw the young man smile warmly at Granny Marta. She saw Ethan laugh when the mischievous village kids tugged at the hem of his shirt. She saw those broad shoulders hoist the villagers’ heavy baskets.

"Is he... truly a good person?" Miya whispered.

Her gaze shifted. Miya was in even more disbelief when she saw the executioner-faced knight who had nearly made her faint yesterday, now letting two boys sit on her shoulders. The knight’s face was fierce, but the children laughed gleefully.

Miya bit her lower lip. Her chest trembled violently.

That young man came braving death in the Eastern Woods purely for his sister’s sake. He waited for her patiently, respected her fears, and was now spending his day helping people he didn’t even know.

"Why..." Miya murmured, squeezing the curtain tighter. "...why are you two so kind?"

That night, the snow fell much heavier, drowning Dorfyk in a thick white blanket.

Inside her wooden house, Miya sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace. Her eyes reflected the blazing fire.

A massive war was raging in her mind. Hundreds of years hiding to escape the greed of humanity. She was too afraid of the world. But... Ethan was different.

Am I going to keep hiding behind these walls forever? her inner voice screamed. Letting a blind little girl suffer out there, just because I’m a coward?

Tears spilled from the corners of her light purple eyes. Not from sadness, but a wave of empathy and guilt tearing at the soul of a Priestess.

Miya wiped her cheeks roughly. "I... have to try..."

She hadn’t made a final decision just yet. The fear still held its grip. But for the first time in hundreds of years, Miya was considering opening the door of her house—and the door to her heart.

At the same time, at Granny Marta’s house.

Ethan sat relaxed in front of the fireplace. In the corner of the room, Valera was already snoring softly in a vigilant posture. The firelight danced in the young man’s brown eyes.

"Fufufu..." The elegant, husky voice of the Asmodeus System echoed.

"You are truly brilliant, My Master. In just a single day. Without pheromones. Without complex illusions. Only relying on patience and... a fake show of kindness in the middle of the snow."

There was nothing fake about my actions today, Ethan replied coldly in his mind.

The System fell silent for a moment. "Are you serious?"

It’s efficient. Helping the villagers is the most logical step to build a reputation that breaks down my target’s wall of fear. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Hooo... Is that so?" The System chuckled in amusement. "But to my eyes, you were enjoying it quite a bit, My Master."

Ethan didn’t reply to the teasing.

"The Demon Lord of Lust feared by the world, today busy shoveling snow for old grannies and playing with little kids," the System couldn’t hold back her mocking laughter. "Damn it. If a demon had told me this joke a thousand years ago, I would have burned their tongue to ashes."

Ethan merely leaned his head back, ignoring his spectral partner’s rambling.

A conspirator’s smirk—a true smile of victory—was now carved onto his face.

Tomorrow morning, he would go see Miya again. Through observing the movement of the girl’s curtains from afar, Ethan knew for certain: his bait of sympathy had been swallowed whole.

The Healer was already at the door. He just needed to push one more step.

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