Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

​That morning, the air at Zenithar Academy felt as cold as usual.

​However, the atmosphere in the main corridors was anything but calm.

​Whispers spread faster than the footsteps of the students.

A massive crowd gathered in front of the Main Notice Board, where a brand-new parchment was pinned with a blue wax seal in the shape of an ice rose.

​That crest held only one meaning.

​The direct approval of the Academy’s Vice Principal.

​Isolde von Rosenberg.

​The contents of the announcement were brief.

​But its effect was like a lightning bolt striking the entire academy.

​Effective today, Ethan Valen of Class F is granted a Special Fast-Track Full Scholarship. He is granted full access rights to the VIP Training Facilities, the High-Tier Magic Library, and the Zenithar Academy Elite Dormitories.

​For a few seconds, absolutely no one spoke.

​And then—

​"Huh?"

​A young noble reread the parchment with a look of pure disbelief.

​"This is a joke, right?"

​"Impossible."

​"Him? Ethan Valen?"

​Voices of protest began to erupt.

​"The quota for the VIP facilities is strictly reserved for the top ten students in the academy!"

​"How could a Class F student possibly get it?"

​"He’s literally known as the trash of the academy!"

​But amidst the uproar, the slow sound of footsteps rang out.

​Tap.

​Tap.

​Tap.

​The crowd swarming the corridor suddenly fell dead silent.

​Someone was walking past them.

​Ethan Valen.

​Today, he wore a high-class academy uniform with immaculate silver embroidery.

His dark hair was styled simply, while his strides remained composed.

​The students’ gazes tracked his every move. Some were brimming with envy. Some with hatred. Others were filled with sheer fear.

​Yet Ethan gave no reaction whatsoever. He didn’t even cast a sideways glance at the notice board causing the commotion.

To him, this wasn’t a surprise. It was merely the result of the game he had set in motion.

​With casual steps, Ethan headed toward the East Wing—an exclusive area for those utilizing the elite facilities.

​From a distance, a pair of eyes glared at his back with burning hatred.

​Kurt von Rosenberg.

​His hand crumpled an academy document until it was mangled.

​"Young Master..."

​One of his lackeys approached hesitantly.

​"The announcement is real. The seal definitely belongs to Lady Isolde."

​Kurt shot him a murderous glare.

​"Shut up."

​Instantly, a small flame flickered from his fingertips. The document in his hand was incinerated to ash.

​"Something isn’t right." His jaw clenched tight.

"Yesterday he was still beneath my boot. How is it possible that today he’s walking around like a high noble?"

​Fury consumed his mind.

There was no way Ethan obtained all this through normal means.

There had to be a trick.

There had to be something.

​Without giving a damn about the stares of others, Kurt marched briskly toward the East Wing.

His three guards trailed closely behind him.

​Not long after, his icy voice echoed through the courtyard in front of the VIP building.

​"Hey, Valen!"

​Ethan stopped in his tracks.

​"Stop right there, Trash!"

​Dozens of elite students lingering around the courtyard instantly turned their heads. They recognized that voice.

Kurt von Rosenberg. And they also recognized Ethan Valen.

The confrontation between the two people who had nearly destroyed each other yesterday was now unfolding right in front of everyone.

​The air grew incredibly tense.

​Ethan turned around slowly.

He was standing one step higher on the VIP building’s staircase.

That slight elevation forced Kurt to look up just to meet his eyes.

A petty insult, but enough to make Kurt’s expression darken even further.

Ethan’s hands were casually tucked into his pockets.

​"Hmm? Young Master Kurt."

​His tone was perfectly serene. The corners of his lips curled into a condescending smirk.

​"Can I help you? My time is quite valuable right now. My VIP schedule is waiting."

​The veins on Kurt’s temples bulged. He stopped right at the bottom of the stairs.

​"Tch. Don’t play dumb, parasite." Kurt’s glare was piercing.

"What did you do to my mother?"

​Several students instantly held their breath at that question.

​Ethan merely offered a faint smile. "I didn’t do anything. We simply... had a discussion."

​He paused for a moment.

​"And it seems... your mother is far better at appreciating ’talent’ than her own son."

​Kurt’s expression contorted wildly. Flames began to gather around his body.

​"You..."

​Oppressive mana pressure rolled outward. A bright orange aura enveloped Kurt’s body.

Searing heat swept across the courtyard, causing the grass around his feet to wither and blacken.

​The students backed away. They knew. Kurt wasn’t just some noble.

He was a Bronze Knight. And right now, his fury had reached its absolute limit.

​"I’m going to break both your legs right here! Let’s see if you can still enjoy your VIP access while you spend the rest of your life crawling!"

​Kurt lowered his stance. Ready to strike.

​But Ethan remained standing. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Only his dark crimson eyes slowly gleamed.

​Finally. Time to test out this new power.

​Ethan focused his mind.

Instead of calling upon his old magic, he drew energy directly from the black rose carved into his chest. Siphoning the mana supply straight from its original source.

​At the exact same time, on the highest floor of the West Wing.

​Isolde von Rosenberg was leading a closed-door meeting with three senior instructors.

Her face was pale, but her icy authority remained unyielding behind her gold-rimmed glasses.

​"...therefore, the budget allocation for the dungeon repairs will—"

​Isolde’s sentence was abruptly cut off.

​Thump!

​The black rose tattoo on her left breast suddenly flared with searing heat.

An unbelievably brutal pull of energy siphoned her Ice Mana Core without any warning.

The searing heat of Sin Mana surged wildly through her veins, as if Ethan’s hand were directly stroking her pleasure receptors from afar.

​"A-ah...!"

​A husky moan escaped Isolde’s lips. Her body jerked forward.

Her quill slipped from her fingers, rolling off the desk and clattering onto the floor.

​Her legs pressed tightly together beneath the desk.

Her pale face instantly flushed beet red, while cold sweat beaded on her temples.

​The three senior instructors across from her stared in utter shock.

​"M-Madam? Are you alright?" one instructor asked in a panic, seeing Isolde clutching her chest while looking down, trembling.

​"G-get out..." Isolde expelled them, stuttering.

Her voice was on the verge of breaking into a humiliating moan.

​The pull on her mana grew even stronger, making her lower abdomen tense completely.

She bit her lip until it bled, desperately holding back the sounds threatening to burst from her throat.

​"B-but Madam, you look extremely—"

​"I SAID GET OUT!!" Isolde snapped, utilizing the very last shreds of her sanity.

​The three instructors jumped in horror. They hastily gathered their documents and scrambled out of the room.

​The moment the door clicked shut, Isolde’s body slumped limply onto the desk.

She panted heavily, squeezing her eyes shut as she gripped the edges of the ebony wood.

​That boy... he’s siphoning my magic... ugh... ah... stop... it’s too much...

​Her body had truly been reduced to nothing more than a puppet on the fingertips of a Class F student.

​Back at the East Wing.

​Kurt launched himself like a bullet. His fist, tightly cloaked in dense Fire Aura, swung viciously, aiming straight for Ethan’s ribs.

​"DIE, YOU TRASH!!"

​Ethan casually raised his left hand. Without chanting a single word from his lips.

​WHOOOSH!

​The ambient temperature plummeted to a terrifyingly absolute zero. Kurt’s blistering heat was wiped out in the blink of an eye.

​Right before the flaming fist could land, a thick wall of ice bloomed in mid-air—forming the rotating petals of a crystal rose acting as an absolute shield.

​CRASH!!

​Kurt’s fist slammed into the ice. But instead of cracking, the rose shield completely devoured the searing heat.

​In mere seconds, Kurt’s flames were entirely extinguished.

Supercooled frost spread rapidly, swallowing Kurt’s right arm all the way up to his elbow within a spiked block of solid ice.

​"A-AARGHH!"

​Kurt screamed hysterically. He stumbled backward, dragging his frozen arm. His teeth chattered violently as he endured the biting cold that was crushing his nerves and bones.

​Every single eyewitness stood paralyzed. Utter silence.

​"I-ice magic?!" a student muttered, his jaw dropping.

"Since when did Valen have the ice element?!"

​"Chantless... and that structural density... that’s high-tier magic!"

​Amidst the suffocating silence, Kurt fell to his knees. His breathing was ragged. The pain and shock completely paralyzed him.

​He looked up, staring at the ice rose shield still floating arrogantly in front of Ethan.

​Kurt’s pupils shrank. His heart felt as though it had been forcefully yanked from his chest.

​The structure of that magic. The distinct blue hue. And above all else... the Mana Signature radiating from it.

​Being her biological son, Kurt was intimately familiar with that energy.

It wasn’t just any ice magic.

It was the unique miracle that flowed exclusively through his mother’s bloodline.

​"I-impossible..."

​Kurt’s lips trembled violently. His once arrogant face was now deathly pale as he stared at Ethan in absolute terror.

​"T-this signature... This rose structure... T-this is my Mother’s magic! H-how can you... what did you do to my Mother, you bastard?!"

​Ethan slowly lowered his hand. The rose shield shattered into glittering crystal dust that caught the morning breeze.

​The young man stood staring down at Kurt with the most ruthless smirk to ever exist.

​"Just like I told you earlier, Kurt."

​His voice was low, echoing deeply and piercing straight through his enemy’s psyche.

​"Your mother is far more... ’generous’ when you’re not around."