Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

​The secret VVIP Medical Facility beneath the North Wing of Zenithar Academy did not look like a standard hospital ward at all.

Built deep underground, it was completely isolated from the outside world and designed purely for maximum secrecy.

There were no windows. The walls were made of pristine white marble that reflected the warm, yellowish glow of the magical crystal lamps on the ceiling. The air inside felt incredibly sterile, quiet, and dead.

In the center of the room, a giant bed draped in silk sheets had been prepared.

Beside it, a small oak table supported a ceramic vase containing a few sprigs of blue lilacs—a rare flower known for its calming effect on magical fluctuations. Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, a glass cabinet held neatly arranged rows of mana crystal medications.

Ethan Valen stood frozen near the entrance.

He wore his black VIP uniform shirt neatly, but... his hands weren’t casually tucked inside his trouser pockets like his usual habit. They hung stiffly at his sides.

Two steps behind him, Isolde von Rosenberg stood in silence.

The Vice Principal wore a navy-blue silk gown buttoned tightly all the way to the base of her neck.

Her platinum blonde hair was pinned up elegantly. From behind the lenses of her gold-rimmed glasses, Isolde’s icy blue eyes observed Ethan’s back intently.

The Archmage could sense her Master’s tension. This silent anticipation... somehow made the ruler of darkness look incredibly human.

Click.

The door slowly opened without a creak. A middle-aged female nurse—the only personnel from Isolde’s covert medical team granted access—stepped inside.

In the nurse’s arms, a little girl slept soundly, looking exhausted from the long journey.

The girl, Elara Valen, was still wearing the pristine white wool dress typical of the sanatorium. Her body was terribly thin and looked incredibly fragile. Her skin was as pale as milk, almost transparent from never having been touched by the blazing sun.

The nurse walked soundlessly. She laid Elara down on the silk bed with extreme care.

After pulling the blanket up to the girl’s chest, the nurse bowed deeply and respectfully toward Isolde, then immediately stepped out and closed the door tightly.

The room fell dead silent once again.

On the bed, Elara’s eyelids slowly fluttered open.

Her beautiful eyes were clouded with a thick white film. The unseeing eyes darted around faintly, trying to find her bearings in a highly unfamiliar room.

However, Elara’s instincts were far sharper than any vision. Her nose sniffed the air softly. The comforting scent of wild pines and morning dew caught her senses.

"This scent... Brother Ethan?" Elara murmured. Her voice was incredibly weak yet brimming with a glimmer of hope, as fragile as the chiming of glass bells caught in the wind.

Hearing that voice, the stiff tension in Ethan’s shoulders melted away instantly.

The young man stepped forward. His wide strides were much faster and more hurried than usual. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward.

"Yes, El. It’s me," Ethan whispered.

Ethan reached out for Elara’s small, cold hands. He gripped them tightly with both of his own, desperately trying to channel as much warmth as possible. He leaned down, kissing his sister’s forehead with extreme tenderness.

His brown eyes were now focused entirely on the fragile girl before him.

Elara smiled brightly. Her thin, small fingers slowly groped the air, then traced her brother’s jawline and cheekbones.

"Hmm... your hands feel much rougher than before... is the training at the academy really hard?" Elara asked with an incredibly innocent tone of concern.

"Just a little. But I am much stronger now," Ethan answered softly. He stroked the strands of his sister’s pale brown hair splayed across the pillow.

In the corner of the room, Isolde witnessed the bizarre interaction with her icy blue eyes slightly widened. The Duchess’s breath caught in her throat.

So this is his true face... Isolde thought, unable to hide the tremor in her heart. Behind the mask of a devil who shattered a Prince’s bones and subjugated an Archmage... he is a brother who is so incredibly fragile.

To Isolde, this sight was an absolute revelation.

She finally understood the fundamental structure of her Master’s soul. The blind girl lying weakly on that bed wasn’t merely a "weakness"; she was the sole chain holding back the monster of darkness within Ethan.

Without Elara... Ethan Valen was nothing more than an incarnation of pure, unbridled destruction.

Amidst Isolde’s reverie, Ethan suddenly turned his head. The young man’s brown eyes stared at the Duchess. A piercing gaze that delivered an absolute command without needing to string a single word together.

Isolde immediately snapped back to reality. She corrected her posture and stepped slowly, elegantly, approaching the side of the bed opposite Ethan.

"El, I’m not alone here," Ethan said gently to his sister. "There’s someone I want to introduce to you. She is my friend... the one who kindly helped relocate you and is caring for you in this much better place."

Elara tilted her head slightly. She directed her blind face toward the source of the clicking sound of Isolde’s shoes. She listened intently.

"Good evening, Lady Elara," Isolde greeted her.

The Duchess now forced her voice to be extremely, exquisitely soft and melodic. She suppressed her entire aura of authority down to absolute zero.

"My name is Isolde. I am so glad to finally meet you."

Elara fell silent for a moment, absorbing the greeting. A sweet smile bloomed once more on her pale lips.

"Your voice, Madam... is incredibly beautiful," Elara praised with pure, unfiltered innocence. "It sounds so gentle and soothing... like a stream of ice water in the summer. Thank you for looking after Brother Ethan for me, Madam Isolde."

Isolde von Rosenberg, the grand Archmage, suddenly lost her vocabulary.

The praise from that blind little girl... somehow pierced through the thick walls of ice around her heart. Isolde blinked slowly. She felt a foreign sliver of warmth touch her chest.

It was an exceptionally rare moment, where the Ice Queen showed a vulnerable side to someone other than her Master.

"Y-you are very welcome, Lady Elara," Isolde replied. Her voice now trembled softly without needing to be faked. "It is already... my duty."

"Brother..." Elara shifted her attention back to Ethan, reaching her weak hands out to grope the air. "Can I hug you? I missed you so much."

"Of course."

Ethan leaned forward. He let his sister wrap her frail arms around his neck. Ethan returned the embrace with fierce protectiveness, burying his face into Elara’s small shoulder.

However... exactly as they embraced, Elara’s left hand slid slowly down from Ethan’s shoulder.

The small hand rested naturally against her brother’s left chest. Right over where Ethan’s heart was beating. Right where the tattoo of the Asmodeus Crown was now tightly hidden beneath his VIP uniform shirt.

It was merely a light touch. Lasting no longer than two seconds.

Yet, Elara’s brow furrowed faintly.

"Brother..." Elara murmured softly, her head resting on Ethan’s shoulder. "Your heart... it’s beating very strangely today."

From the corner of her eye, the observing Isolde saw perfectly clearly how the muscles in Ethan’s body instantly went rigid for a split second. The young man’s jaw clenched tight. His brown eyes narrowed.

"It feels so... heavy. And dark?" Elara continued with an innocence that pierced straight to the gut.

The atmosphere inside the VVIP room suddenly felt terrifying and suffocating to Isolde.

Realizing his own shock, Ethan swiftly regained control of his expression. He rubbed Elara’s back slowly, forcibly soothing his own physical tension.

"It’s just your imagination, El," Ethan lied. His voice returned to a stable, gentle cadence, as if his sister’s horrifying statement was merely a passing breeze. "My heart is beating so fast because I was too excited running here to see you. Your journey was very long, you must be exhausted."

Hearing that explanation, the crease on Elara’s forehead vanished instantly.

Her innocence swallowed the lie whole without a spark of suspicion. She let out a small giggle. A light, peaceful laugh that made anyone want to protect her.

"You’re always exaggerating," Elara murmured. Her embrace slowly loosened and went limp.

The sedatives given by the medical team earlier began to overtake her consciousness once more. "I... think I’ll sleep for a bit, Brother..."

"Sleep. I will be right here when you wake up," Ethan whispered, slowly laying his sister back down.

Elara closed her clouded eyes. In a matter of seconds, the girl’s breathing returned to a steady, rhythmic pace. Her face looked incredibly peaceful. Her pale brown hair cascaded beautifully over the white silk pillow.

Ethan released his grip slowly. He pulled the thick blanket up, smoothing it out with meticulous care until it covered his sister’s shoulders.

The young man stared at Elara’s face in a long silence for nearly a full minute. Ensuring the girl was truly fast asleep, before he finally stood tall.

Ethan turned toward the door without saying a word. Isolde, understanding the cue from her master’s aura, immediately followed his footsteps from behind.

The corridor outside the VVIP medical facility shared the same marble walls, lined with crystal lamps radiating a pale blue light. Quiet, cold, and soundproof.

The moment the door to Elara’s room clicked firmly shut behind them, Ethan’s footsteps halted.

The young man stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, staring straight into the void.

The mask of a gentle older brother was removed and discarded. Completely replaced once more by an aura as cold as a glacier and the calculative glare of the Demon Lord.

"Isolde," Ethan called out softly, not turning back in the slightest.

"I am here, My Master," Isolde answered, bowing her head in a gesture of absolute obedience.

"First command," Ethan stated sharply. "Not a single soul in this world is to know that Elara is in this academy. Keep this an absolute secret from the Council, from Alaric, even from Kaelia and Valera. That girl does not exist outside that room until I personally decree it."

"As you will it, My Master. This facility will be sealed."

Ethan fell silent for a moment. His right hand slowly rose, touching his own left chest. Brushing over the area of his shirt where the Horned Crown tattoo resided.

His mind spun wildly and sharply, replaying that one crucial second inside the room earlier.

How could she possibly feel the weight of this crown? Ethan thought with lethal scrutiny. Stagnant Mana Syndrome only paralyzes the magic absorption circuit. The genetic disease has never granted sensory perception toward ancient energy, let alone demonic energy.

"Second command," Ethan continued. His tone dropped into a very, very dangerous whisper. "Deploy all of your most brilliant and trusted covert medical resources. Double-check all of Elara’s medical records from the church sanatorium. I want you to find out... what her true illness is."

Isolde lifted her face slightly, startled. "Do you mean, My Master... her condition is not ordinary Stagnant Mana Syndrome?"

"Find out," Ethan ordered absolutely. He turned his head, staring straight into Isolde’s icy blue eyes with a warning crimson glint. "I... do not believe in coincidences."

Isolde accepted the weighty command with absolute seriousness. "I understand, My Master. I will tear apart and re-examine every diagnosis the church has ever given her."

The two stood in silence in the cold corridor. Ethan looked back toward the door of Elara’s room. Pondering his own promise to dig deeper into the secret behind his precious sister’s blind eyes.

There was a mystery far greater than a mere conspiracy to usurp the Valois throne hiding behind that fragile body.

Meanwhile, back inside the silent VVIP room locked tightly from the inside.

Elara slept peacefully with gentle breaths. The room radiated absolutely no magic whatsoever.

However... if someone were to stand near that bed and observe very, very closely...

On the small oak table, inside the blue ceramic vase, there was a small miracle that escaped the eyes of ordinary humans.

One single blue lilac blossom—whose petals had withered and shriveled dead that very afternoon—was now blooming once more with absolute, breathtaking perfection.