I’m Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon!

(Rock's POV)

The hallway was silent—but not in a peaceful way.

It was the kind of silence that crushed your chest, made every breath feel too loud. The kind that came right before something exploded.

In front of me stood two of Faluni's best—No.1 and No.2. Both had their rifles trained on my forehead. Their hands didn't shake. Their eyes didn't blink.

They were trained killers, and they weren't hesitating.

Behind me, Elena clung to my coat. I could feel her tiny fingers gripping the fabric, trying to stay hidden, trying to stay brave.

I spread my arms in front of her, shielding her with everything I had.

If this was it, I was going to make damn sure I was the only one who died.

Then, the walkie-talkie on my chest crackled, and Faluni's voice slipped through, cold and detached.

"Fire."

Time froze.

I shut my eyes. My body tensed, bracing for pain that would never go away.

I wasn't thinking anymore. Just… hoping she'd survive somehow.

BAM!

BAM!

Two shots.

But not from their guns.

I waited for pain that never came—only the sound of bodies hitting the floor.

Thud.

Thud.

I opened my eyes.

No.1 and No.2 were on the ground—both down, lifeless.

What the hell...?

That's when I saw them—three more guards rushing in from the corridor, weapons still drawn but scanning the area, not aiming at me.

One of them stepped forward quickly. "Rock! Are you alright?"

I stared at him, my brain lagging behind my body.

"I… yeah. I think so."

The guard looked genuinely relieved.

"We got here as fast as we could. Guard No.7 said you were in danger."

My mouth opened, but I didn't know what to say. I hadn't called for help. No one had. Unless...

The radio buzzed again—Faluni's voice now sharp, venomous.

"What the hell is going on?! Those were my personal guards! You just executed them!"

The tension rippled through the group.

The lead guard stepped back instinctively. "Boss, we received intel from bathroom guard no.4 that two intruders disguised as Mobius members were in the Hall. Then Guard No.7 reported that Rock was being attacked."

Faluni went silent.

Total stillness.

Then—

"Pfft… AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Laughter.

Mad, chaotic, unhinged laughter exploded through the speaker, echoing through the corridor like a goddamn horror movie.

"Whoever came up with this plan... HAHA! That was beautiful! You fools didn't just fall for it—you helped him! Rock's alive! My guards are DEAD! And I can't even be mad!"

He kept laughing, somewhere between losing his mind and genuinely impressed.

(Note: This was not part of any Yuuta plan. It's Pure accident. Don't give Yuuta that much credit.)

I stared at the walkie, stunned.

No one had planned this.

No one had called for backup, as far as I knew.

So… who the hell did?

Just then, I felt a tug on my coat.

I looked down and saw Elena peeking up at me. Her cheeks were puffed in pride, eyes sparkling like she knew something the rest of us didn't.

"Papa did it!" she declared with a big grin. "I told you my papa is a genius!"

I blinked. "Your… papa?"

She nodded seriously, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

My heart sank—then rose.

Whoever this man was, he hadn't just fooled Faluni's network.

He turned everyone into pawns… and somehow saved me in the process.

And that wasn't luck.

That was something else entirely.

I don't know who this man is

But I need to meet him.

No matter what it takes.

Faluni's laughter finally faded, but what followed was worse—silence.

The kind that presses on your chest.

Then his voice returned—low and calm, but no less deadly.

"Fine, Rock... I won't kill you."

I didn't relax. That tone was never a good sign.

"Because now... I want to meet the mastermind behind this mess. The one who saved you. The one who make distraction and saved hostage too."

My jaw tightened.

This wasn't over.

"Boys," he said, "capture him. Bring him to the second auditorium. Alive."

The line went dead.

I glanced at the guards near me—ones who, just minutes ago, risked everything to help me.

They looked just as uncertain as I felt.

I muttered under my breath, "Shit… we're screwed."

(Erza's POV)

The meeting room buzzed softly with ambient lights and smooth humming from the Nova tech embedded in every surface. I stood with my arms crossed, calmly watching a series of shifting holograms dance across the table.

Every image, every diagram—it responded to the slightest touch. The tech here was seamless. Elegant. Powerful.

Dragons, after all, are built for this kind of brilliance.

I mastered the entire interface in two days.

If Yuuta were here, he'd be pacing and whining like a puppy.

I could already hear him in my head:

"Unfair. Absolutely unfair! I hate dragons. You people are walking cheat codes!"

A small smile tugged at my lips.

"I miss him," I said quietly. "I hope he's doing okay…"

Across the room, Sara worked with focused urgency, her fingers flying across the interface, opening layer after layer of encrypted files. Her expression, though—tense. Eyes darting. She wasn't just focused.

She was worried.

Why?

We were looking into Allen—a demon. Strong, sure, but nothing compared to dragons. He was no town-class threat. Barely footnote-level, as far as I was concerned.

So why was Sara sweating?

Then she froze.

Her hand hovered over the screen.

Sara's fingers danced across the glass panel, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. One by one, layers of encrypted files flickered open—maps, scans, audio logs.

Then she paused. Her eyes locked on the screen.

"I found it," she said quietly, almost to herself.

I stepped closer. "Found what?"

Her voice was tight. "The truth about Allen. And it's… not what we thought."

I turned toward her.

"What did you find?"

Sara looked up slowly, her expression tight with shock.

"He's not ordinary, my Queen."

I walked over, my curiosity piqued. "Explain."

Sara tapped the table. A large hologram appeared, flickering to life above us—two images side by side.

The first was old—centuries-old. A worn portrait of a man in ceremonial armor, dark robes stitched with silver symbols. His face was gaunt but commanding. Eyes sharp. Almost smug.

The second image was modern. Clean, high-resolution surveillance from a nearby facility.

Same man.

Allen.

I narrowed my eyes. "You're certain this is him?"

Sara nodded gravely. "It's a perfect match. Facial structure, eye pattern, mana trace. Everything."

I folded my arms, watching the images float between us.

"Fine, I'm just muttering to myself. Go ahead and tell me his backstory—we still need to hit 2000 words anyway."

Sara blinked. "What?"

"Nothing, never mind. You go on with Allen's backstory."

Sara took a breath and began, her voice steady but tense.

"Over 900 years ago, during the great Parmana invasion, the Ladim Empire was on the brink of collapse. Their forces were overwhelmed—bleeding soldiers in every province. Emperor Matio was desperate. So desperate, he turned to the oldest, most forbidden form of magic."

She tapped again. The screen shifted—showing a wide battlefield, marked with scorched earth and shattered siege towers. Then it zoomed in on a dark, blood-red circle etched across an open plain.

Symbols writhed across it—alive with malice, even centuries later.

"Matio sacrificed entire towns," she said. "Not just warriors. Civilians. Innocent women and children. His royal sorcerers drained them to fuel a summoning ritual large enough to pierce the veil between worlds."

I could feel the chill behind her words those human are always evil bastard.

"And that's when he came," she continued. "A High Demon named Allen Manstar. One of the oldest still walking—if you can call what he does 'living.'"

I watched the images closely. The battlefield. The ritual. The aftermath.

"With Allen's power, Matio didn't just survive. He obliterated the Parmana forces. They say Allen turned armies to ash with a gesture, ripped the skies apart, and silenced the Phoenix Clans in a single night."

"That's not war," I muttered. "That's genocide."

Sara nodded solemnly. "And it didn't stop there. Matio used Allen like a divine weapon. Every rival nation fell. Libeus became his empire. But…"

She turned toward me.

"When Matio died, Allen should've returned to the Demon Realm. His contract should've ended."

"But he didn't," I said, already guessing.

Sara's eyes were sharp now. "He found a loophole. Instead of fading, he stayed by binding himself to every successor. Twisting laws, forging deals, altering bloodlines—ensuring he was needed. And if anyone refused…"

"They disappeared," I finished.

"Or worse," she added.

The screen showed a progression—portraits of rulers through the ages. In each, Allen stood somewhere in the background. Always the advisor. Always close to the throne.

Centuries of kings and queens... and the same demon behind them all.

"He's not just a survivor," I said. "He's a strategist. A manipulator."

"A tactician," Sara agreed. "One who plays the long game."

I leaned back slightly, letting the weight of it all settle.

Allen hadn't just lived through history—he shaped it.

He wasn't some brute from the underworld. He was patient. Surgical. A demon who didn't need to spill blood if he could bend wills instead.

Still…

I looked at his modern photo again.

Smart. Dangerous. But…

"Not a dragon," I said flatly. "And definitely not stronger than me."

Sara smiled faintly. "No, my Queen. But even dragons should tread carefully around someone who's lived through nine centuries of manipulation."

(Rock's POV)

They marched us into the second auditorium. Bigger room. Higher ceilings. Dimmer lights.

And a hell of a lot more guards.

I counted quickly—ten. Every one of them armed, focused, tense. A few had cold eyes, the kind that'd already taken lives. Some of these weren't the same men we'd encountered before. Two had died. One had vanished. Another had been crippled. But now? Reinforcements. Or maybe Faluni had more pawns than we thought.

I could feel Elena's hand tightening around mine.

She wasn't speaking, but she didn't need to. Her small, trembling fingers said everything.

Her father had pulled off a miracle, saving the hostages—but at a cost. Now all of Faluni's remaining force had regrouped here. This was the endgame.

And Faluni?

He made an entrance like he always did—slow, arrogant, dragging the silence behind him like a cape. That same smile was still plastered on his face. It wasn't human. It was painted on like a mask—like something out of a twisted circus.

He stopped in front of us and tilted his head, eyes flicking to Elena.

"I never thought you would betray me, Rock," he said, his voice playful. "And for this little brat?"

I stayed silent.

Not a word.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

His grin widened.

And then—without a hint of warning—he pulled a pistol from his coat and fired.

BANG!

The crack of the gunshot echoed across the auditorium. I lunged toward Elena—

But the bullet hit her.

Right in the forehead.

And bounced off.

Like she was made of something... not human.

Elena stumbled backward, shocked. Her breath caught in her throat. She raised a hand to her head, fingers brushing the unbroken skin where the bullet should've torn through.

Tears welled in her eyes—not from pain, but from confusion and fear. She didn't understand what had just happened.

Neither did I.

Faluni threw his head back and laughed.

"You were right, Allen!" he howled. "She's not a girl—she's a goddamn monster!"

That name again.

Allen.

A chill crept into my spine.

From the corner of the room, the shadows began to shift. Something was moving—no, emerging.

A figure stepped forward slowly, like he had all the time in the world.

Tall. Sharp. Impeccably dressed in a black butler's uniform. Black hair like ink. Black eyes… but with pupils of gold, glowing like molten coins.

His presence was suffocating.

Elegant. Calculated. Deadly.

He looked at Elena with casual disinterest, like examining an art piece he'd seen before.

"She's definitely a monster," he said smoothly. "But the real monster hasn't arrived yet, Her Mother."

Faluni turned toward him, laughing.

"Wait, wait—*you're saying her mom is stronger than this freak?"

Allen's expression remained still. Cold.

Then another voice cut in.

Calm. Familiar. Regretful.

"Trust me… if you ever see her, you'll regret it."

Everyone froze.

Faluni blinked. "What the hell?"

Allen took a step back and bowed his head low.

His voice dropped to something near reverent.

"Welcome, my master."

The air went still.

And then—

Aaron stepped into the light.

When I first saw Aaron—in movies, on social media—he looked like the perfect man. Handsome, sharp jawline, always dressed to impress. He had that kind of charm that made you pause.

But now?

He was just a broken mess of what he used to be. A drug addict, eyes burning with madness—and something even more dangerous: revenge.

I'd once heard whispers about him. That he tried to harm a child just because he couldn't get to the child's mother. I told myself it was a rumor. Just sick gossip.

But then Elena, her tiny hand shaking, pointed directly at him.

"Uncle… I know that mister," she said, eyes wide. "He's the one who pushed me into the lion cage."

She looked up at Rock and added, "And Papa saved me…"

My breath hitched.

That meant Aaron wasn't here by accident.

He was here for Yuuta.

Aaron's smile twisted as he stared at the child.

"So you still remember," he said coldly. "Good. Because today, I'll make sure to take my revenge—starting with you, you little brat."

To be continued…