(Grandpa POV )
Yuuta and Erza… getting married again.
As I sat on the porch of our new home, watching them carry boxes and fuss over furniture like any ordinary young couple, a quiet warmth spread through my old bones. A man only lives once, but a grandfather lives twice—once for himself, and once through the happiness of his children. Seeing my granddaughter-in-law choosing to marry Yuuta in the human way… it felt like a blessing most old men never receive.
And yet, beneath that warmth, a knot of truth sat heavy in my chest.
Human love and dragon love—they are not the same. Anyone who has seen only the surface will quickly judge Erza. They will say she is unstable, violent, possessive, or too cold. They will never understand the nature of dragons. They dominate. They choose. And once they choose, they reshape the world around that choice. Erza is no exception. She loves fiercely, protects ruthlessly, and once she decides something will happen… it will happen, even if the heavens object.
That is why her decision frightens me.
Because a dragon does not simply marry twice.
A dragon makes a declaration.
And Erza's declaration means only one thing:
she has already decided this peaceful life is nearing its end.
The "sweet home" she built with Yuuta is not a permanent story. It is a chapter—one she plans to close and if she did it's mean she already found substitute of her.
As I watched the Konuari family bustling around the house—Erza carrying furniture with one hand, Yuuta stumbling behind her, Elena clinging to his leg like a koala, Allen silently floating a stack of boxes with demonic magic—my chest tightened. Their laughter was innocent. Pure. Almost blinding. But to someone who has lived long enough and seen enough death… it was also an illusion.
A calm before a storm that i have not seen for centuries.
While I was thinking, footsteps approached the backyard. Then a shadow kneeled before me—Nefraions, the demon who once drowned kingdoms in terror. His forehead touched the ground in reverence.
"It is my honor to meet you, Great Legend," he said softly. "Descendant of Seraphina, the Last Saint of Mists."
I studied the demon for a long time.
Allen, once a calamity that made kingdoms kneel, was now kneeling before me like a loyal hound. Time was truly a comedian—twisting fates, humiliating monsters, elevating children.
"How ironic," I finally said, voice weighed down by age. "You—the same demon who slaughtered armies, terrified empires, defied every holy line that ever existed—now bound to a human child. And not just any child… but one whose origin even the gods refuse to record."
Allen's lips curled into a dark smile. He lifted his head slightly, the faint glow in his eyes flickering like dying embers.
"My Lord," he murmured, "are you talking about my Master's Redosh Aura? The aura that symbolizes vengeance, wrath, and devouring?"
I frowned. "I only know Yuuta carries something ancient—something only old monsters like me can sense. But you… how can you know more than even I do?"
Allen's chest vibrated with a low, amused chuckle. "O Great One," he said, "you may have forgotten the true nature of humans… but I have not. My Eternal Master's aura is not a curse of birth. It is the consequence of the sins of mankind. It is the shadow left behind by humans who once tried to rewrite fate itself. And now, that shadow is stirring. Nova will feel it… the moment my master understands the truth of his suffering."
Then he recited the old words.
Not in any tongue spoken today—these were fragments from a forbidden prophecy, older than kingdoms, older than dragons, older than the sky.
The words rolled off his tongue like broken echoes:
"MÑẞL B3ÔẞÆ LKO ÅẞÉ DARDA…
42 Œ01ØÕ…
NO HDN JB BDDHÚ…
K2JẞSK9ẞSK…
MẞFFH URIEOOSẞN…
HDDDHÉ…
SÑMDFM KICHH…
BILL JOYDEEP."
The air trembled. Even the wind paused.
And then he translated softly:
"When a child understands the reason for his loneliness,
when the veil of innocence shatters,
he shall unleash death.
He shall ride the White Dragon behind him Seven deadly sin Nefarions,
and hell shall follow wherever he walks,
making even heaven tremble."
For a moment, we both fell silent. Then unexpectedly, a hoarse laugh escaped me. Allen joined in with his own chilling laughter. Two old beings laughing at destiny, mocking it, as if prophecy were no more than a drunk storyteller's joke.
But when the laughter faded, my voice turned grim.
"You know this prophecy can never be fulfilled… not unless she awakens from her slumber."
Allen's expression darkened. He knew exactly whom I meant.
"Her name," I continued, "is something only dragons may speak. Any other race who utters it will die in an instant. But her title… even you can speak her title right?."
Allen's head lowered. "Silent Death," he said quietly. "The Woman of Eternal Stillness."
I nodded. "Impressive. If you can speak her title without fear, you truly are a Title Nefarion. And now I understand why your race is divided by titles, not ranks. You are not ordinary demons. You are calamities given names."
"Yes," Allen whispered. "I am Pride. My mother once served the Silent Death faithfully."
I raised a brow at that. "Then I am truly surprised you know of the old secret prophecy—the one only entrusted to the Royal Elders of Atlantis. The one that spoke of the White Dragon's rider. For centuries, everyone feared it… but it was never meant to happen. Because if Zareth must appear, she must enter lands guarded by Holy Angels. And they will never allow her to return."
Allen smiled with unwavering confidence. "My master will defeat them, Great One. He is extraordinary."
I exhaled slowly, looking toward the mountains where the clouds curled like slumbering beasts.
"You still don't understand, demon," I whispered, as if the very air around us needed to hear the truth.
"This universe is vast—so vast that even gods get lost in it. And yet humans… humans cling to the childish dream of being special."
I raised my hand slightly, feeling the silence settle like dust.
"Everyone wants to be the protagonist of existence.
Everyone wants destiny to bow to them.
Everyone imagines that the world secretly revolves around their footsteps."
A faint, humorless smile touched my lips.
"But tell me—if everyone demands the spotlight, who is left to stand in the shadows? If every soul believes they are the chosen one, then the very meaning of being 'chosen' collapses."
I looked up at the sky, at the indifferent expanse stretching endlessly above.
"The truth is simple… and cruel.
No one is born a main character.
We are all side characters in someone else's drama, accidental moments in another person's lifetime. Even the so-called 'heroes' are heroes only because someone else decided to tell their story."
I let the weight of those words sink in.
"There is no cosmic favor. No hidden script. No grand design written for us. We invent meaning because the universe refuses to give us any."
My eyes softened—not with pity, but with understanding older than centuries.
Yuuta is just a human—a fragile, ordinary existence—and there is nothing wrong with that. The real problem is that everyone who looks at him tries to turn him into something he is not. They want him to be a hidden heir, a chosen vessel, a miracle wrapped in human skin. But the truth is far simpler and far harsher. Yes, he once carried a strange, unfamiliar aura, but even that has faded with time. And when it comes to his origin, nothing about him suggests greatness. If anything, it marks him as a failed creation, someone who was never meant to be born yet was forced into existence beyond his limits. There is no prophecy tied to his blood, no divine spark waiting to awaken, no destiny hinting he will become something powerful.
I shook my head slowly.
"But that is the sweetest lie of all. Humans crave purpose so desperately that they will wrap themselves in fantasies the way a dying man clings to warmth."
My voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Reality does not bend for anyone. Fate does not choose favorites.
And the universe…"
I placed a hand over my chest, feeling my heartbeat echo in the vast emptiness.
"The universe does not care."
"I know you misunderstood, Allen," I finally said, watching his expression carefully. "Seeing Yuuta beside Erza, watching the intensity of their bond… anyone might believe he's the man foretold in those old verses. Someone destined to destroy Nova or stand against gods while riding Erza's dragon form. But none of that is true. Everything that has happened to him was coincidence, nothing more. Yuuta is human—painfully and completely human."
Allen didn't speak. For a moment, silence stretched between us. But I could see the thought lingering in his mind—the prophecy about the demon bound to the 'eternal master.' It wasn't hard to guess why he had mistaken Yuuta for that figure. He wasn't the first to make that error.
As I considered his silence, a sudden sharp pain struck my head. Something flashed—an image, a memory, or perhaps a bond I once tried to see—but it slipped away before I could grasp it. I couldn't remember what it was or why it hurt.
"O Great One… are you alright?" Allen's voice trembled slightly, breaking through the haze.
I blinked, steadying myself. "I'm fine. Just this old brain of mine forgetting things again." I forced a laugh, and Allen bowed his head.
"I am relieved to find you well," he said quietly.
I snorted. "You sure know how to speak politely for a demon."
"Certainly. This humble servant is blessed to be acknowledged by the Great One."
I only smiled and looked toward the messy courtyard, where a small family was trying—and failing—to manage the chaos Erza had created. Stretching my hand toward the demon beside me, I said, "Come on. Let's get to work. If we're late again, your mistress will burn us both."
"Yes, Great One," Allen replied.
We had barely stepped into the house when Erza's voice exploded like thunder.
"YOU TWO OLD DOGS! Why are you so late!? Look at this place! It's a disaster! Do you not fear me at all!?"
The walls trembled—or maybe that was just my old heart reacting.
I raised both hands in surrender. "W-We were just discussing something important!"
Beside me, Allen bowed so deeply I thought his horns might scrape the floor.
Erza's eyes narrowed. "Discussing? You two idiots have the luxury to discuss things while my entire house is collapsing into chaos?" She pointed accusingly at Yuuta and Elena, who were surrounded by a mountain of clothes, plates, and what appeared to be half of Erza's wardrobe.
Yuuta straightened up at once. "Hey! I was helping! I did most of the work!"
"Helping?" Erza's eyebrow twitched. "Everything you touched moved from the right place to the WRONG place. Again. And again. And again. I'm exhausted just looking at you."
Yuuta swallowed hard, but still tried to defend himself. "Still… this isn't how you should talk. You know, Erza—"
That sentence was a mistake.
Before he could finish, she flicked her fist toward his head. Not full power—just enough to make him remember who ruled this house. "Now repeat what you just told me an hour ago."
Yuuta rubbed his head, voice instantly shrinking. "I… I said I should be more organized."
I couldn't help it. A small laugh escaped me. "Both of you look like children fighting over a toy."
Erza snapped toward me. "I am not done! You—Grandpa! And you—little demon! Stop standing there like statues and start helping!"
Allen and I straightened like guilty soldiers.
"We're sorry!" we said in perfect unison.
Erza planted her hands on her waist and shouted, "Now all of you—I want this entire place cleaned by evening!"
"That's impossible!" we all shouted together—me, the demon, Yuuta, and even tiny Elena, who didn't fully understand what was happening but joined in anyway.
"I don't care if it's impossible or not," Erza replied coldly. "I want the work done. Understood?"
Yuuta crossed his arms. "And what are you going to do while we suffer?"
Erza didn't even blink. "I'm going to take a good nap in my swimming pool," she said, casually picking up Elena and walking toward the backyard.
"Wait—that's unfair!" Yuuta shouted.
"Unfair?" Erza turned her head just enough to glare. "Then feel free to get out of my home if you think life is unfair."
"What the hell—are you using your power already?" Yuuta complained.
"Oh? You think me claiming my rightful authority is 'power'?" she replied, raising her hand. Ice magic immediately formed, swirling like a warning. "Then you haven't seen my power yet."
Yuuta froze. "Nope—I understand. I'm working. I'm working right now."
"Good." She smirked, then pointed at us. "And I want everything done by evening. Understand, Grandpa? Little demon?"
"Yes, mistress. We understand," Allen and I replied like punished schoolchildren.
Erza walked off to take her peaceful nap, leaving a trail of chaos behind her—and leaving the rest of us trapped in house-cleaning hell. But somehow, watching Yuuta panic, Allen sigh, and Elena cheer randomly, I felt strangely alive. This peaceful, ridiculous life… it was something worth protecting. Maybe, someday, Nova could become like this—free of war, living in harmony, where even wrath felt warm.
To be continued…
Hey everyone, this is the author.
After re-reading my older chapters, I realized something important:
the story started as a comedy, but over time it grew into something much deeper and far more serious.
To match the quality of the later arcs, the early chapters need proper editing, stronger character details, and better pacing.
Because of that, I've decided to take a short break—more than a week—to rework and polish everything properly.
I don't want to rush it. This story deserves the best version of itself.
For now, I'll let the Foundation Arc finish normally.
After that, I'll take the break and then lock the earlier chapters so I can revise them without pressure.
Thank you all for reading and supporting this novel.
Your patience means a lot to me.
— Author