Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

​The atmosphere in the Main Hall—which just seconds ago had been filled with the elegant strains of a waltz and the laughter of nobles—was now dead.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes, from ministers and the High Priest to elite knights and academy instructors, stared at the shattered doorway.

Ethan Valen stood there.

He wore only a pitch-black VIP uniform shirt that clung perfectly to his athletic physique. His dark brown hair was slightly tousled by the night wind, and both his hands rested incredibly casually inside his trouser pockets.

Ethan’s brown eyes now blazed with a crimson hue. And surrounding his body, not just one, but three high-tier elemental powers swirled simultaneously!

There was a savage glow of pure gold. A bone-chilling cold that froze the air into a blue-black mist. And blood-red flames that licked at the marble floor.

The three powers blended and melted flawlessly within the shroud of his dark Sin Mana, distorting the candlelight around him.

On the altar, Prince Edward von Valois stood frozen.

His slicked-back golden-blonde hair contrasted sharply with his face, which was now flushed a violent red. The veins in his neck bulged with anger and humiliation. His sky-blue eyes glared at Ethan with overflowing hatred.

"How dare you, you F-Caste Rat!!" Edward roared. His voice cracked, splitting the silence of the hall. He gripped the hilt of the heirloom gold sword at his hip. "Crashing a holy ceremony and insulting the Heir to the Valois Throne?! Knights! Arrest this trash and sever his head on the spot!"

In the front row of the VIP seats, Duke Alaric von Rosenberg flinched violently.

His colossal body stiffened, his ice-crystal beard trembling. The Duke’s pale blue eyes widened, nearly popping out of his skull as he recognized the savage golden glow enveloping Ethan.

The Duke hurriedly turned around. There, Valera Voss stood tall.

The female knight’s golden-yellow eyes stared straight at Ethan. Beneath the collar of her black leather armor that exposed her muscular arms—right on her left neck—the spiraling black rose tattoo began to pulse hotly, reacting to the Golden Beast Aura Ethan was currently wielding.

Valera had to bite the inside of her cheek so hard it bled, just to endure the sudden, debilitating weakness attacking her knees.

"Valera! Draw your greatsword and sever his head right now!" Alaric commanded with a desperate urgency.

Valera regulated her slightly heavy breathing. She looked down at her lord.

"Not a wise idea, My Lord Duke," Valera whispered hoarsely, playing her role to perfection. "Look at Prince Edward’s fury. Let the Valois faction and that rat kill each other. There’s no need for you to dirty your hands."

Alaric fell silent for a moment. He absolutely loathed Prince Edward, and the prospect of seeing the Valois faction humiliated in public was incredibly tempting. Alaric scoffed roughly, then leaned back into his chair, choosing to be a cold-blooded spectator.

In the center of the hall, twelve Royal Guard Knights clad in silver armor drew their swords. They sprinted, surrounding Ethan from all directions.

Ethan didn’t take his hands out of his pockets. He merely raised one foot slightly, then stomped it onto the floor, summoning the ice magic he stole from Isolde.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The marble floor of the Main Hall instantly froze in a radius of dozens of meters. However, the ice created wasn’t ordinary blue ice, but a pitch-black frost.

The moment the knights’ steel boots touched the ice, their legs froze instantly. Panicked screams echoed as the Sin Mana within the black ice forcibly began siphoning mana from their circuits, completely paralyzing the twelve elite knights like display statues.

In the front-row VIP seats, Isolde von Rosenberg gasped.

The Archmage’s icy blue eyes widened behind her gold-rimmed glasses. The exact second Ethan’s black ice explosively activated, the sprawling black rose root tattoo across her flawless back beneath her navy-blue gown flared with incredible heat.

A massive wave of arousal instantly slammed into Isolde’s neural network. The Vice Principal had to cross her legs tightly, rubbing her thighs together unconsciously, and gripping the armrests until her knuckles turned white. She desperately chanted a calming spell in her mind to keep from moaning in public.

Seeing all his guard knights paralyzed in a single second, Edward swallowed hard. But Ethan knew that physical violence alone wouldn’t be enough to claim Kaelia tonight. He needed an absolute legal shield.

"I did not come as an assassin, Prince!" Ethan declared loudly. His baritone voice resonated with dark charisma. "I came to invoke the Right of Trial by Combat! An ancient aristocratic law to contest the rights over this woman!"

Shocked murmurs and furious whispers erupted among the nobles.

Edward looked hesitant. His eyes darted wildly, searching for protection or a bureaucratic loophole to decline.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of an oak staff tapping the floor silenced the panic.

Sage Cornelius stepped forward. The frail old man in the dull gray robe stared blankly with his blind left eye, yet his aura successfully suppressed all the oxygen in the room.

"The ancient law is valid and binding, Your Highness," Cornelius stated. His hoarse voice pierced straight to the soul. "If you refuse it, history will record the Valois Heir as a coward who ran from a lower-caste challenge. If you accept and win, this boy will be executed."

The Sage allowed a tense pause. "But if you lose... Lady Kaelia officially belongs to the victor of the duel."

Edward’s sky-high ego was instantly triggered by the word ’coward.’ In his eyes, Ethan was just F-Caste trash relying on dirty magic tricks.

"I accept your challenge, Rat!" Edward shouted arrogantly. He drew his family’s heirloom sword. A golden blade that radiated a blinding, holy light.

Cornelius tapped his staff three times on the floor. The official duel was sanctioned. Hundreds of nobles hurriedly backed away, forming a wide, makeshift arena circle in the middle of the hall.

Edward didn’t waste a single second. He pointed his sword straight into the air.

Three holy gold magic circles formed above his head. Pure light mana gathered at an insane speed, manifesting into a massive, five-meter-long spear of light.

Valois Holy Lance. A supreme technique theoretically capable of piercing even an Archmage’s magical shield!

"Die, you Trash!!" Edward shrieked. He hurled the holy spear, rocketing it straight toward Ethan’s chest.

Instead of dodging, Ethan actually stepped forward to embrace death.

He opened his right palm and released all the limiters on his Sin Mana. Three absolute powers were activated simultaneously at maximum output.

A layer of black ice encased his entire right arm. His arm muscles and bones expanded and hardened, surging with the Golden Beast Aura. And in the palm of his hand, the blood-red Crimson Sin Fire blazed, forming a vortex of death.

As those three absolute powers erupted at maximum output simultaneously... an insane resonance slammed into the three elite women in the room all at once!

In her seat, Isolde’s back felt as if it were being burned by pure ecstasy. She bit her lower lip so hard it nearly bled, letting out a stifled, soundless whimper behind her folding fan.

Behind Duke Alaric, the tattoo on the left side of Valera’s neck glowed so brightly it pierced through her armor’s collar. The knight gripped her neck tightly, her legs trembling violently, fighting tooth and nail against the feral moan threatening to erupt from her throat.

And on the altar, Kaelia von Ashford gripped the edge of the wooden podium with violently shaking hands. The fire-rose tattoo on her lower abdomen throbbed so savagely that Kaelia nearly screamed. she forcibly squeezed her thighs together, letting tears of arousal slip from her golden eyes.

BAAAAM!!

Ethan’s right hand caught the tip of the Valois Holy Lance dead on!

A brutal shockwave exploded, blowing away banquet tables and shattering crystal plates.

Yet Ethan didn’t retreat a single centimeter. His black ice instantly plummeted the light spear’s temperature, making it incredibly brittle. The Golden Beast Aura halted all its kinetic thrust. Then, the Crimson Sin Fire was forcibly injected into the spear, creating an extreme thermal shock effect from the inside.

CRAAASH!!

The five-meter-long holy lance shattered into pieces in Ethan’s hand. Reduced to a shower of worthless golden dust.

Edward paled. His eyes widened in absolute horror. Losing his sanity, the Prince blindly swung his heirloom sword toward Ethan’s neck.

[Abyssal Stride]

Ethan’s body melted into the shadows on the floor. The holy sword only slashed empty air.

The very next second, Ethan materialized right in front of Edward’s face.

THWACK!

A devastating punch slammed into the Prince’s chest. A pure strike amplified by the Golden Beast Aura.

The prideful white-gold armor of Valois cracked and violently exploded instantly. Edward was launched into the air, flying like a broken doll for ten meters before slamming brutally into the marble floor. He coughed up fresh blood, rolling around while whimpering in humiliating agony.

Ethan walked casually toward the Prince’s body. He leaned down and snatched the golden heirloom sword from Edward’s trembling hand.

Ethan raised the royal sword, staring at the blade with a condescending glare. Once again, the combination of Black Ice, Gold Aura, and Blood-Red Fire was fully channeled into his hands gripping the blade and the hilt.

CLANG!

The sound of snapping metal echoed throughout the hall. The Valois heirloom sword was snapped into two pieces by the hands of an F-Caste youth.

Hysterical screams erupted from the nobles. The High Priest standing on the altar lost his balance. He dropped his holy cushion to the floor, his face as white as cotton.

Ethan carelessly tossed the broken blade aside. Then, he planted the sole of his black boot squarely on the chest of the sprawled-out Edward.

CRACK. The sound of the Prince’s ribs fracturing beneath the pressure of Ethan’s boot could be heard.

"A-Aghhh... mercy... s-stop..." Edward broke down in tears.

His arrogance had been pulverized. His pride was shattered to dust. He sobbed uncontrollably in front of hundreds of noble eyes that had spent their lives flattering him, begging for mercy from the man he had just called trash.

Ethan leaned his body down. He brought his lips close to the bloodied Prince’s ear.

"The next time you intend to send the Light Guard to sniff around the Eastern Borderlands..." Ethan whispered. His voice was as cold as death, causing Edward’s breath to catch instantly, horrified at realizing how this boy knew about his covert operation. "...make sure they don’t run into the Devil in the Pine Forest."

Ethan raised his right hand, now coated in spiked black ice. Preparing to crush the Prince’s head and end the Valois bloodline tonight.

TAP.

The tap of a staff emitted a spatial ripple that vibrated the bones of every single person in the room.

All eyes, including Ethan’s crimson gaze, shifted to Sage Cornelius.

The blind old man stepped forward. He didn’t shout, yet his voice buzzed forcefully into everyone’s consciousness.

"The right of Trial by Combat has been won by Ethan Valen," Cornelius’s telepathic voice echoed. "However, if you kill him now, boy, you will no longer be the victor of a duel, but the murderer of a royal family member. And I... will not be able to sit idly by."

Ethan and Cornelius locked eyes.

Two absolute powers brushed against each other in the air. The Demon Lord’s crimson darkness clashed silently with the Sage’s gray void.

Cornelius leaned forward slightly, and this time, his voice echoed exclusively inside Ethan’s head.

"I acknowledge your victory tonight, Ethan Valen. Take the girl and leave without consequence," Cornelius whispered cryptically. "But tomorrow... you must meet me in the Star Meditation Room. Alone. Without your shields, and... without the women hiding behind your back."

A faint, defiant smirk appeared on Ethan’s face. This blind old man had actually noticed Isolde, Kaelia, and Valera’s involvement.

Ethan pulled his foot off Edward’s chest. "Deal."

From the altar, Kaelia von Ashford no longer cared about the nobles’ stares.

With her maroon gown billowing, she sprinted down the marble steps, completely ignoring the body of her future husband sobbing in a pool of blood on the floor, and lunged straight at Ethan.

Kaelia hugged Ethan tightly. Burying her face, wet with tears of relief, into the young man’s chest.

"In accordance with ancient law!" Kaelia declared loudly with a trembling voice, ensuring the entire room heard her. "I, Kaelia von Ashford, choose to take refuge with the victor of the duel! From this night onward, my life, my soul, are under the protection of Ethan Valen!"

The High Priest stepped forward, his face flushed red with anger. "T-This is an absolute insult! This—"

A single turn of Sage Cornelius’s head—accompanied by his empty blind stare—instantly shut the High Priest’s mouth tightly. Not a single soul dared to defy the decision of Zenithar’s true ruler.

Ethan returned Kaelia’s embrace. He wrapped his arm protectively around the Fire Queen’s slender waist. His crimson eyes swept across the room like a king who had just ascended the throne.

Edward wept on the floor, his crown irreparably shattered.

Duke Alaric glared at him with hatred, shock, and a deadly curiosity.

Isolde gazed at him with glassy icy blue eyes—a mixture of absolute pride, fear, and a burning arousal.

While Valera, the bloodhound, smirked wildly as she continued to clutch her pulsing, hot neck.

Ethan Valen turned around. He took Kaelia’s hand, and walked slowly past the ruined doorway. Leaving behind a silence that crushed the minds of all the royal aristocrats.

That night, the Royal Prince lost his crown.

And a Devil, had finally announced his birth to the world.