Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

Night shrouded the Zenithar Magic Academy.

The grandeur of the stone buildings, which radiated authority during the day, was now swallowed by the pitch-black shadows.

At nine o’clock in the evening, the main corridors usually buzzing with the chatter of young nobles had fallen completely silent.

Only the magical torches along the walls flickered softly, casting golden reflections across the marble floor.

For the vast majority of students, night was a time for rest.

But for Ethan Valen...

It was time to hunt.

His footsteps echoed faintly down the deserted hallway.

He had changed out of his torn uniform into clean clothes, but the bluish bruise at the corner of his lip remained starkly visible.

Instead of looking pathetic, a faint smile graced his face.

A copper coin danced nimbly between his fingers, moving in sync with his composed thoughts.

Deep within his body, Sin Mana flowed as warmly as molten lava, granting him a sensation of power he had never known before.

Before long, he stopped in front of the mahogany double doors on the top floor of the north wing.

A sliver of golden light spilled from beneath the door.

Isolde von Rosenberg was still inside.

Without bothering to knock, Ethan turned the brass knob and stepped in.

The moment the doors opened, a biting chill immediately washed over him.

The room felt even more freezing than it had this morning.

The fireplace in the corner had long gone out, leaving behind nothing but cold, untouched ashes.

Behind the ebony desk, Isolde sat perfectly straight, silhouetted against the giant stained-glass window.

The moonlight framed the woman’s elegant figure.

A dark evening gown draped over her form gracefully, while her platinum blonde hair cascaded down one shoulder.

But now, Ethan saw something that had previously been hidden.

Following his System Rank-up, his vision had become exponentially sharper.

He caught the erratic rhythm of Isolde’s breathing.

Her fingers were gripping the edge of the desk so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

She was holding back immense pain.

"Hmph. You’re two minutes late, Valen."

Isolde’s voice remained as cold as ice.

"I hope you didn’t spend that time cooking up a new lie."

Ethan didn’t reply.

His gaze remained fixated on the woman before him.

Then—

Click.

The sound of the lock turning shattered the silence.

Isolde’s eyes instantly widened.

"You..."

Her gaze darted toward the door, which was now securely locked.

"What are you doing?"

Her tone was still authoritative, but it carried a faint sliver of unease she failed to hide.

"Open that door. You don’t need a locked room just to hand over a piece of parchment."

Ethan pulled his hand away from the doorknob and strolled casually toward the desk.

"Just a precaution, Lady Isolde."

His smile was thin.

"As I mentioned this morning... I wouldn’t want anyone interrupting our private discussion."

He stopped right in front of her desk.

"After all, I’m sure the Duke would appreciate the importance of absolute secrecy."

Isolde’s jaw tensed the moment her husband’s name was mentioned.

"Hand over the contract."

She held out her hand.

"After tonight, you will never breathe my husband’s name again, nor will you ever go near my son. Cross either of those lines..."

Her glare turned piercing.

"...and I will destroy you myself."

Ethan pulled the wax-sealed parchment from his pocket.

But instead of handing over the document, he merely twirled it slowly between his fingers.

"I’ve read through it."

"Good."

Isolde replied curtly.

"Then hand it over."

"The terms are certainly enticing."

Ethan remained perfectly calm.

"A full scholarship. A hefty sum of gold coins. My family’s livelihood secured."

"And?"

"But..."

Ethan’s gaze shifted.

"This contract doesn’t offer the one thing I actually need."

The room’s temperature plummeted drastically once again.

A thin layer of frost began creeping across the surface of the desk.

A single rose in a crystal vase slowly froze solid.

"Don’t be greedy, Valen."

Isolde’s voice grew even colder.

"That is more than enough for someone like you."

"It’s not money I’m after."

Ethan braced both of his palms on the desk.

His eyes emitted a faint, crimson glow.

"I only want compensation for the pain I’ve had to endure."

It was at that exact moment...

He unsealed his mana circuits.

For years, his Aroma Manipulation had only produced a sulfuric stench that invited endless mockery from everyone.

But now...

That ability had mutated.

The Sin Mana, having assimilated with the power of the Demon Lord of Lust, birthed an entirely different scent.

A wave of suffocating heat filled the room.

Slowly, Isolde’s freezing air was forcefully pushed back.

It wasn’t a putrid stench that emerged.

Instead, it was a heavy fragrance—bizarre, yet deeply intoxicating.

The scent of night orchids, dark honey, and musk saturated the air, weaving an atmosphere that was hard to describe.

Isolde furrowed her brow.

"What is this... scent?"

She raised her hand, preparing to cast a spell.

But the moment she drew a breath—

Her body froze.

Her eyes widened.

Her hands began to tremble.

That foreign energy invaded her body, seeping directly into the meridians that had been the source of her torment for years.

The agonizing, piercing pain gradually faded away.

In its place...

A comforting warmth bloomed, spreading throughout her entire body.

"What..."

Isolde’s voice faltered.

"What are you doing...?"

She clutched the fabric over her chest.

A faint flush crept over her normally pale face.

Beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

"Cheap magic?"

Ethan stepped around the desk.

His tone remained perfectly serene.

"This is the very magic capable of relieving your suffering."

"Stop it..."

Isolde struggled to stand up.

But both of her legs lost all their strength.

She forced her ice mana to violently erupt outward.

CRACK!

Ice crystals spiderwebbed across the floor, forming razor-sharp spears that shot directly toward Ethan.

Unfortunately...

Her focus was completely shattered.

The attack missed, merely shredding a portion of the expensive carpet in the corner of the room.

The violent clash between her ice mana and his Sin Mana created massive turbulence within her own body.

Isolde’s breathing grew even more ragged.

Her knees buckled.

And finally...

She fell to her knees on the carpet.

Her gold-rimmed glasses slipped off and clattered onto the floor.

The room was now completely saturated with Ethan’s aroma.

The air felt suffocatingly heavy.

Isolde looked up, gasping for air, fighting tooth and nail to hold onto her consciousness.

Her icy blue eyes, normally so unfeeling, were now swirling with utter confusion.

Ethan stood towering over her.

The woman who had always looked down on him as garbage no longer seemed so impenetrable.

"You’ve lived in the cold for far too long."

Ethan’s voice was soft.

"Enduring the pain all by yourself. Hiding your weakness behind a wall of ice."

Isolde gritted her teeth.

"Shut up..."

She tried to scramble backward.

But her body simply refused to obey her command.

Ethan crouched down until he was at eye level with her.

He stared directly into Isolde’s eyes without blinking.

"Your body is saying something entirely different."

His tone remained terrifyingly level.

"Even if your mind continues to deny it."

Isolde stared back.

Fear, confusion, and utter frustration all bled together in her expression.

Ethan slowly lifted her chin so she couldn’t look away.

"Tonight..."

He spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"You are not an Archmage."

"You are not a Duke’s wife."

"And you are definitely not the Vice Principal."

His gaze grew infinitely sharper.

"Tonight, all that’s left is someone desperately fighting against her own torment."

Silence once again filled the room.

Only the sound of their breathing could be heard amidst the freezing air that was slowly, but surely, losing its dominance.