Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

"Check her again," Ethan ordered quietly.

His voice was low, yet it carried an absolute authority that left zero room for argument.

Miya flinched slightly. She looked at Elara with hesitation. "B-but Master Ethan... Lady Elara is fast asleep. If my magic wakes her up—"

"Then do it without waking her, Miya," Ethan cut in flatly. His eyes pierced the Elf. "You are the best healer I have right now. I need certainty."

Miya swallowed hard, then nodded slowly. She stepped forward with extreme caution, making absolutely sure her footsteps didn’t conjure a single creak from the floorboards.

Miya stood right beside the bed. She took a deep breath, calmed her Mana Circuits, and hovered both palms over Elara’s chest.

The Elf’s light purple eyes squeezed shut.

A soft, warm red light radiated from Miya’s palms, descending like a thin mist and seeping beneath Elara’s pale skin. The magic flowed serenely, tracing through her blood vessels, muscle tissues, and the patient’s Mana Core.

Silence. There was only Elara’s soft breathing and the constant ticking of the wall clock.

One minute. Two minutes.

Cold sweat began to bead on Miya’s forehead. Her pointed ears drooped drastically, mirroring the dread thickening inside her. Her hands moved slowly, reading the ripples of her magic’s response.

And then... she found it again.

That anomaly.

This wasn’t a dark curse. Not a physical injury or an external magic attack. What Miya felt was far more primitive—and terrifying.

In the depths of Elara’s body, far behind her fragile Mana Core, lay a second rhythm of life. It was incredibly faint, like an echo at the bottom of the ocean, yet its existence was undeniably real.

It beat slowly and steadily. Like a second heartbeat locked in a deep slumber, waiting for the moment to awaken.

Miya’s breathing suddenly turned ragged. She yanked her hands back instantly, severing the Crimson Radiance spell.

The Elf girl staggered back a half-step, staring at Elara’s chest with absolute horror.

"What did you see?" Ethan asked. His posture tensed.

"I-it really is in there, Master," Miya’s voice trembled violently. She hugged herself. "There is another presence. It’s not a disease, it’s... pure life. An entity infiltrating a normal human body."

Ethan didn’t answer right away. He turned his gaze back to his sister’s face.

The young man’s jaw clenched. Faint veins bulged on his neck. Yet, there was no explosive outburst of anger. What radiated from Ethan was a cold, utterly lethal vigilance.

"Can you extract it? Or halt its growth?" Ethan asked without looking back.

Miya shook her head frantically, her blonde hair bouncing. "I-I can’t, Master! The entity has merged way too deeply with Lady Elara’s Mana Circuits. Ripping it out would be like forcibly tearing the roots of a giant tree from a tiny pot. Lady Elara’s body would be utterly destroyed! Besides... the entity is currently still in a deep sleep."

Ethan narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze to the Lilac flower still pulsing with a purple glow.

"Then why did that flower bloom?"

"I... have a theory, Master," Miya answered hesitantly. She swallowed hard. "Pure life magic is extremely sensitive to its environment. The flower reacted because there was a momentary surge of energy when Lady Elara was dreaming. But... the biggest problem isn’t the flower."

"Explain."

"Zenithar Academy," Miya said softly. "The Mana concentration in Zenithar is far too dense, harsh, and partly too dark. To my Elven instincts, this environment is toxic for Lady Elara. The external Mana pressure constantly pushes against her fragile body... and it could act as a catalyst."

Ethan’s head snapped toward her. "Are you saying staying in this academy will accelerate that thing’s awakening?"

"Highly likely, Master. It’s like placing a seed inside a high-pressure cooker. The entity could wake up much faster to protect its host... or take over," Miya whispered, bowing her head deeply.

A suffocating silence crept in once again.

Ethan stared back at the Lilac’s glow. His mind raced. There was no fear in him—fear was a useless emotion. But for the very first time, he felt a thread of fate slipping from his grasp.

Something residing within your own flesh and blood...

Asmodeus’s warning echoed in his memory.

Inside Ethan’s chest, a primitive urge dominated. His political ambitions at Zenithar and his grand plans to crush his enemies instantly felt trivial compared to his sister’s safety.

One thing took absolute root: he would protect Elara, no matter the cost.

Ten minutes later, the doors to the VVIP room opened.

Ethan stepped out, his face once again forged into a mask of ice. Elara was left sleeping soundly in her warm dreams. Miya hurried closely behind him, shutting the doors tightly.

The moment they stepped into the North Wing corridor, the freezing chill instantly ambushed them.

Even though it was late into the night, a few noble students were still passing through. However, the ensuing sight sent shivers down Miya’s spine.

The second they caught sight of Ethan Valen, the students’ footsteps halted entirely.

The air around Ethan suddenly turned heavy and suffocating. The young man wasn’t wielding any weapons or channeling any magic—he was simply strolling casually with both hands shoved in his pockets.

Yet, his reputation burned their survival instincts alive.

Instinctively, the students stepped aside and pressed their backs against the stone walls. They bowed deeply, hiding their faces behind their cloak collars, not daring to meet the predator’s dark brown eyes.

The previously noisy corridor instantly went dead silent, clearing a wide path for the ruler of the shadows.

Miya could only hug her robe tightly, shivering at the absolute intimidating Aura radiating from Ethan’s broad back.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s mind was busy weaving a brand new strategy.

He needed official clearance to take Elara out. He needed a special magic-dampening carriage. He had to map out a route entirely scrubbed of enemy assassins. And he had to make his move before the academy council caught wind of it.

Ethan’s long strides finally brought him to his private VIP Dormitory.

As the carved doors opened, the scent of pine wood from the fireplace welcomed them.

Ethan walked right in without taking off his shoes, heading straight for the large window overlooking the academy courtyard. He stood frozen there, staring at the heavily falling snow.

His right hand came up, gripping his shirt right over his left chest—where the Horned Crown tattoo was hidden. The warm throb from the mark served as a constant reminder that the devil was always watching.

Miya closed the door quietly and locked it.

Silence reigned once more, decorated only by the crackle of burning wood and the howling wind outside.

Then, Ethan shattered the silence with a heavy, irrefutable tone.

"We’re taking her home."

Miya gasped, her eyes widening. "H-home?"

Ethan gave a slow nod without turning around. "Yes. Out of Zenithar. To the Valen estate."

Miya was stunned. All this time, Ethan had never once spoken about his homeland. Rumors painted the Valen territory as a cold and alien place.

"Is... is that land far from here, Master?"

"Far enough to keep her away from the curse of this place," Ethan replied curtly. "There is no artificial Mana pressure there like in Zenithar. The air is clean. I will personally escort her."

Ethan pivoted his body, locking his gaze onto the Elf.

"Miya, prepare all of Elara’s medical records. Write down every single Mana fluctuation, medicinal reaction, and your findings tonight in a cipher that only the two of us can read. Destroy the original drafts."

Ethan continued sharply, "Tomorrow morning, I will secure a temporary withdrawal permit from the academy council."

Miya immediately straightened her posture and gave a firm nod. "Y-yes, Master! I’ll get it done tonight."

There was no room for debate. It was a military order.

Miya looked at Ethan’s broad back as he turned to face the window once again. Deep in her heart, the Elf felt a strange rush of admiration.

Miya pulled up a wooden chair near the window. She took out a medical notebook from her bag, flipping through pages filled with records of Elara’s journey and therapy. Her small hands worked quickly, rewriting every single detail onto fresh sheets with ink mixed with a special powder.

A secret cipher. One only she and Ethan understood.

Every now and then, Miya would pause, chewing on the end of her quill, staring at the blank page with a furrowed brow. Not because she was struggling to write—but because the shadow of that "second rhythm of life" continued to haunt her.

"What exactly is sleeping inside of you, Lady Elara..." she whispered softly.

Once finished, Miya folded the original records and slowly burned them over a copper tray. A small flame devoured the paper into fine ash. The original drafts were completely obliterated.

The snow outside fell even harder. Ethan remained standing in front of the window, his gaze piercing through the storm.

In his mind, an image of an old stone house with a small courtyard slowly surfaced. There was a large oak tree in the corner. The house was simple, a far cry from the luxury of Granderer or the grandeur of Zenithar.

There, a little Elara was laughing. Her pale brown hair swept by the wind. She was chasing a butterfly she had never seen. Her eyes were already beginning to go blind, but her smile hadn’t yet faded.

"Brother! That butterfly has to be purple!" Elara exclaimed in his memory.

A young Ethan stood near the tree, watching his sister. "What makes you so sure it’s purple?"

"Because the flowers near you are purple. It’s definitely flying that way."

The memory faded slowly, replaced by Elara’s pale face on the hospital bed. A cruel contrast.

Ethan’s hand clenched tight by the window sill. He took a deep breath. Home. It was a word he hadn’t spoken since his father’s death.

Just as Ethan was about to leave the window and head for the sofa, a soft knock came from the door.

"Come in."

An academy staff member entered, head bowed. His face was pale, his body shivering from the cold.

"Apologies for the intrusion, Lord Valen," he rasped. "Headmaster Cornelius has sent a message. He requests your presence in his office tomorrow morning."

Ethan stared at the staff member expressionlessly.

"Tell the Headmaster I will be there."

"Right away, My Lord." The staff member bowed even deeper, then exited, shutting the door behind him.

His footsteps faded down the corridor.

Ethan smirked faintly. "The old man is starting to catch wind of my moves."

Miya turned from the desk, anxious. "Is this bad, Master?"

"Not necessarily. But we must move before he starts asking too many questions."

The night deepened. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face. Outside, the wind howled like a distant warning.

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