Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

​Morning at Granny Marta’s house was wrapped in warmth. The crackle of firewood blended harmoniously with the savory aroma of potato soup. Outside the window, thin snow drifted down slowly, deepening the contrast with the wooden interior’s coziness.

Ethan Valen sat casually at the dining table. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His gaze was calm, as flat as the surface of a frozen lake.

Across from him, Valera Voss devoured her breakfast with military speed. The black-armored knight placed her Zweihander within arm’s reach.

Lina paced back and forth carrying a basket of wheat bread. The braided girl kept her head bowed in shyness. Every time her blue eyes stole a glance at Ethan, her cheeks flushed furiously. Being so nervous, she walked far too fast and nearly bumped into Valera.

"Walk with your eyes, brat," Valera reprimanded flatly. One of her hands effortlessly halted Lina’s momentum.

Lina squeaked in panic, bowing apologetically over and over, then fled to the kitchen with a burning face.

Granny Marta chuckled from her rocking chair. "Oh my, this house has become so lively. It feels like it’s been ages since it was like this."

"Was this village livelier before, Granny?" Ethan prompted amiably.

Granny Marta nodded, her gray gaze drifting far away. "Before the border war two years ago, yes. Traveling merchants often stopped by. The Harvest Festival was always festive. But now... what’s left is mostly just old bones like us."

"Granny, don’t tell sad stories this early in the morning," Lina grumbled from the kitchen.

"Hahaha, sorry, Lina. Old folks just love to reminisce."

"It’s alright, Granny," Ethan said with a smile. "This village has a rare peace that cannot be bought in the capital."

Granny Marta stared at the young man intently. "You know, Ethan... you are a strange young man. Your face and posture are exactly like a palace noble’s, but you are willing to shovel snow, carry wood, and patiently listen to an old woman’s ramblings."

"You have given us shelter and warm food. It’s the least I can do."

Granny Marta smiled gently. "You remind me of my late husband. He was a hard worker and polite to everyone."

Hearing that, Lina suddenly chimed in innocently from the kitchen. "Wow! Was Grandpa as handsome as Ethan back then?!"

"Lina! Watch your mouth in front of guests!" Granny Marta scolded, laughing.

Cough!

Across the table, Valera, who was drinking, nearly choked. The female knight coughed softly, hurriedly wiping her mouth. Her eyes bulged, staring at Ethan with sheer disbelief—a mixture of nausea and amusement at seeing her master compared to a heroic village grandfather.

Noticing his bloodhound’s stare, Ethan merely gave an invisible shake of his head. An absolute signal: Keep your mouth shut.

After breakfast, Ethan re-rolled his shirt sleeves and excused himself. "I will head to the healer’s house now. Hopefully, there will be an answer today."

"B-be safe on the way, Ethan!" Lina waved shyly from the doorway.

Outside, the main street had been shoveled neatly. Smoke puffed from the chimneys. Several kids were busy throwing snowballs.

"Ethan!" called out the little boy who had clung to Valera yesterday. "The Miss Knight is going to play with us, right?!"

"She’s busy guarding the village right now," Ethan replied, waving casually.

The children immediately booed Valera with disappointed pouts.

At the intersection, Old Bart waved. "Ethan, lad! Don’t forget to help me lift some sacks this afternoon!"

A fishmonger lady chimed in, cheerfully shouting an offer for free fish. Ethan only smiled and nodded politely.

Valera scoffed softly behind Ethan. "Tch. Your popularity has spiked sharply in a highly unnatural manner, My Master."

"That’s because you aren’t trying to make them like you at all, Valera."

"I am a sword. I don’t need these village rats to like me," she grumbled.

"And that is exactly why they prefer to bother you."

Valera didn’t argue further, but the corner of her lips twitched, holding back a smile.

Their steps halted beneath the old oak tree at the northern edge.

"Wait here. Do not enter, no matter what happens," Ethan commanded.

Valera nodded obediently. She stepped back, leaning against the oak trunk. Her right hand rested relaxed near the hilt of her Zweihander. The golden spiraling rose tattoo hid safely behind her collar. She reverted to guard dog mode.

Ethan stepped up onto the porch. He knocked on the faded wooden door three times. Waiting for his prey.

The door opened far faster than yesterday.

Miya Evarett stood in the doorway. The petite Elf girl still wore her white robe stained with medicinal brews. Her long blonde hair cascaded past her waist, framing her pale face.

Her pointed ears twitched softly. This time, she didn’t look down.

"G-Good morning, Ethan. Please come in," Miya greeted. Her voice was quiet, but the panicked tremor was gone.

Ethan smiled, stepping inside.

The interior of the house looked different. The ancient books were neatly arranged. The obsidian mortar was cleaned. And most importantly: the girl’s small notepad was already closed in the middle of the table. An absolute psychological sign that the researcher was ready with her conclusion.

Miya sat near the fireplace. There was no tea offered. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

"I have completed my initial research," Miya began, her tone shifting to highly professional. "Your sister’s symptoms... they are not a congenital defect. It is an Ancient Seal. A high-tier ancient seal deliberately implanted in her core circuit."

Miya took a deep breath. "But, I cannot break it without directly examining the patient’s mana fluctuations."

The Elf girl swallowed hard. Her eyes forced themselves to look at Ethan. "I... have to come with you. I have to leave this village."

"Yes," Ethan answered with a calm baritone. Just one word.

Miya’s petite fingers squeezed the edge of her robe. "I am... incredibly scared, Ethan. For hundreds of years, I have never crossed the village borders. The outside world... I don’t know if I have the courage."

Miya looked up, staring at the young man with a glow of pure astonishment. "Why... are you so patient with me? Anyone else with your power would have kidnapped me by now, or threatened to burn this village down. Why didn’t you do that?"

This was the moment. The stage was set. The Demon Lord was ready to play his best role.

Ethan leaned forward, interlocking his fingers. His eyes radiated a fake sorrow concocted in perfect proportions.

"Because I know exactly what it feels like to lose someone, Miya," Ethan answered, his voice deliberately deepened. "And I know how horrifying the fear of losing your only reason for breathing can be."

Ethan stared deeply into those purple eyes. "Her name is Elara. Blind since birth. Her mana circuit is paralyzed. Her body is as fragile as a glass doll that could shatter at any second."

Ethan took a dramatic pause, letting his venom of sympathy seep in.

"I am the only family she has. Our father has passed away. Our mother is gone. In this cruel world... there is only me. And her."

Every word of that was raw fact. However, the emotions behind them were manipulatively framed to crack open the vault of the Priestess’s heart.

"I failed to save my parents," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "But I swore on my life to save Elara. Because of that, I will wait for as long as you need... as long as you are willing to help her."

Miya’s light purple eyes instantly welled up with tears. The ice walls of her hesitation were pulverized by that emotional ’honesty’.

"You... truly love her so much..." Miya whispered with trembling lips.

Ethan merely gave a slow nod. Looking down as if he couldn’t bear to speak.

Witnessing the young man’s fragility, Miya finally stripped away all her defenses.

"Hundreds of years ago..." Miya began to tell her story, her voice accompanied by stifled sobs. "...I once trusted a human completely. Considered him a precious friend. But... he betrayed me. Sold my information to bounty hunters for money."

The Elf girl bit her lip hard. "They wanted to force me to become a healing slave. I escaped with severe wounds, hid here, and swore I would never trust a human again."

Tears trickled down, dampening Miya’s pale cheeks. "But... you are different, Ethan. I don’t know why. You are nothing like them."

Ethan stood up, radiating the steadfast aura of an older brother.

"I will wait for you until you are ready, Miya. No matter how long it takes," Ethan said soothingly.

The young man turned his body, walking slowly toward the door. As if giving her space, as if preparing to leave.

Miya stared at that broad back wrapped in a black shirt. The back of a man willing to sacrifice everything for his family. Her chest trembled violently. The fear of her past went to war against the guilt of letting a blind girl die.

Exactly as Ethan’s hand reached for the doorknob—

"WAIT!"

Miya’s shout echoed. Far louder than any sound she had ever made in hundreds of years.

Ethan stopped. He turned his head slowly.

Miya was already on her feet. Tears flooded her cheeks, but her face was no longer bowed. Her gaze locked straight onto Ethan’s eyes.

"I... will come with you," Miya sobbed, her voice heavy with resolve. "I will help cure your sister... save Elara."

Ethan turned around fully. "Are you... certain?"

Miya nodded quickly. "I am scared, Ethan. But I am more scared of my own regrets. If I let her suffer in the dark while I have the power to help... I would never be able to forgive myself."

The ultimate act began.

Ethan stepped forward quickly. He made his breath tremble in disbelief. "Are you... truly going to help me?"

"Yes. I promise."

Without warning, Ethan swept the Elf’s petite body into a tight embrace. One of his large hands wrapped around Miya’s waist, while the other gently stroked her blonde hair.

"Thank you... thank you so much, Miya," Ethan whispered in her ear.

Miya gasped in shock. However, moved by the sincerity washing over her, she slowly lifted her trembling arms. She returned the embrace awkwardly. Her palms touched Ethan’s broad back.

For the first time in hundreds of years, Miya felt incredibly safe in someone’s embrace.

However, that feeling of safety was merely a lethal illusion.

The very next second, the warmth of that embrace transformed into a searing heat.

Through such intimate physical contact without any distance, an extraordinarily dense flow of Sin Mana slipped directly into Miya’s circuit, totally bypassing her Sage sensitivity radar.

Miya’s breathing abruptly changed rhythm. Fast. Deep. Her cheeks heated up as if burning with fever. Her lower abdomen fluttered fiercely, triggering a contraction that made her thighs press together instinctively.

"E-Ethan... Hah..." Miya whimpered in confusion, trying to push against the young man’s chest. "What’s wrong... my body... why does it feel strange..."

Ethan didn’t release his hold. His grip on Miya’s waist actually tightened, pressing the petite body mercilessly against him. His fingers on the nape of Miya’s neck gripped softly yet dominantly.

"Shh..." Ethan whispered in her ear. "Don’t resist. Just feel it."

Absolute panic slammed into Miya’s consciousness. "R-resist what? You... what are you doing to me...?!"

With one rough jerk, Ethan released the embrace and took a step back.

The mask of a desperate, fragile brother shattered without a trace. His brown eyes stared straight ahead with absolute coldness. His warm voice vanished, replaced by a heavy baritone laden with dark domination.

"You made the choice to trust me, Miya Evarett," the Demon Lord said, smirking cruelly. "And now... you are mine."

Miya stumbled back, but her legs suddenly went boneless. "Y-yours...? W-what do you mean?! I just wanted to help... you said it yourself—"

"Everything about my sister is the absolute truth," Ethan cut in sharply. "But I will never let you walk away free after you cure her. The power of a Hidden Sage is far too valuable to just let go."

Miya tried to back away to grab her magic staff on the table, but the foreign sensation of arousal slamming her circuit locked her motor nerves. Her thighs clamped tightly together.

"W-what did you do...?!" Miya screamed. Her tears of being moved had now turned into tears of terror.

Ethan smirked faintly. "My pheromone manipulation is indeed mental. Your Sage brain is immune to illusions. But you are not immune to physical touch, Miya. You are not immune to honesty. And clearly... you are not immune to your own emotions."

"You... tricked me?!" the girl sobbed. Her world crumbled for the second time.

"I gave you what you needed," Ethan whispered, stepping slowly to close the distance and corner the girl. "Patience. Understanding. Someone you could trust. And as payment... you are giving me what I want. Your entire self."

"No... I didn’t—"

Miya’s words were forcibly cut off.

Right on her left thigh, a crimson light suddenly flared blindingly. An extraordinary heat burned her skin, spreading through her blood vessels to her nerve endings.

Miya let out a stifled moan. A wave of brutal pleasure and pain mixed into one, slamming into a body that had never been touched for centuries.

"W-what... is happening to my thigh...?!" Miya whimpered, squeezing the skirt of her white robe.

"That is my mark," Ethan answered absolutely. "The Lust Brand. Proof that your soul and body are now mine."

With violently trembling hands, Miya pulled up the hem of her robe. Her light purple eyes widened in horror.

A perfectly blooming crimson rose tattoo was permanently etched onto her flawless left thigh. Thorny vines spread wildly like living cracks across her skin, creating a horrifying illusion as if a bloody rose was tearing its way out of her flesh.

Miya stared at the tattoo, then stared at Ethan. Her eyes were flooded by an ocean of betrayal.

"You... wicked monster..." she sobbed, shattered. "Even though... I tried to trust you..."

Ethan reached out his hand. The tip of his index finger forcibly tilted the Elf girl’s chin up.

"Yes, I am indeed wicked," Ethan whispered, his thumb roughly wiping a tear from Miya’s cheek. "But you are still mine. Hate me for the rest of your life, Miya... but look at yourself. Your body has already acknowledged it."

Miya wept uncontrollably. Her thighs pressed tighter together, rubbing against each other to endure an overwhelming sensation that betrayed her logic.

Inside her head, a brutal war raged. Her sanity screamed, He tricked you! He is a monster just like the other humans!

Yet her Elven body responded otherwise. The searing heat burning her lower abdomen... the dominant touch on her chin... Hundreds of years of freezing loneliness had just been shattered by a man who marked her so brutally.

Out there, beneath the old oak tree, Valera Voss waited loyally. While inside, the crimson rose Lust Brand on Miya’s thigh glowed brightly, sealing the destiny of the Hidden Healer forever in the hands of the Demon Lord.

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