They sat together on the bench, watching Elena dance in front of the lion enclosure.
The evening had grown darker, the zoo's lights casting warm pools of illumination along the pathways. The lions had grown more active with the cooling temperature, their tawny shapes moving through the grass like living shadows. Elena was captivated, her small face pressed against the glass, her voice carrying across the distance as she narrated every movement to anyone who would listen.
"Look, Papa! The big kitty is walking! Look, Mama! The baby kitties are playing!"
Yuuta smiled weakly from the bench.
Too weakly.
Erza noticed.
She hadn't meant to notice. Hadn't wanted to notice. But her eyes kept drifting to him throughout their conversation, and each time, something felt... off.
His breathing was shallow.
His skin was pale.
His hand—the one still resting near hers—trembled occasionally.
What is wrong with him?
She'd healed him. Her magic should have fixed everything. The frostbite, the bruises, the damage from her cold. He should be fine.
But he wasn't.
She studied him more carefully, her dragon senses reaching out without conscious thought.
And then she saw it.
A flicker of something in his chest.
Mana.
Raw, undiluted mana, swirling in a small vortex near his heart.
Her eyes widened.
Impossible.
She leaned closer, her violet eyes narrowing. The mana was faint—barely visible, barely there—but it was real. It pulsed gently, rhythmically, like a second heartbeat.
And it was being absorbed.
Into his chest.
Into his body.
Into his very being.
"What are you doing?" Yuuta's voice cracked with panic. His face had gone red—whether from embarrassment or fear, she couldn't tell. "Erza, what are you—"
"Don't move."
Her voice was sharp. Commanding.
"Let me confirm this myself."
He froze.
She placed her hand flat against his chest.
Right over his heart.
Right over that impossible vortex of mana.
Her eyes closed.
Her consciousness reached out—not aggressively, not invasively, but gently, carefully. Her own mana flowed from her palm into his body, following the trail of that mysterious energy.
It led to his chest.
And then—
Disappeared.
Not vanished. Not dissipated. Absorbed. Drawn into him like water into sand, like light into shadow, like something that belonged there.
Erza's mind raced.
This is impossible.
Mana doesn't just... absorb.
Not into humans.
Not into anyone unless they're—
She opened her eyes.
Looked at him.
At this ordinary, pathetic, impossible mortal.
Without a word, she made a decision.
She drew more mana from herself—a gentle stream, warm and healing—and poured it into him.
Yuuta gasped.
For a moment, he felt cold. Icy cold, like ice water flooding his chest. His heart stuttered. His breath caught.
Then—
Warmth.
Deep, spreading, life-giving warmth.
It flowed through him like a river waking after winter. Into his arms. Into his legs. Into every cell that had been screaming with exhaustion. His vision cleared. His breathing steadied. The weakness that had been dragging at him simply... melted away.
He sat up straighter.
Looked at his hands.
They weren't trembling anymore.
"What..." He turned to Erza. "What was that? Another healing spell?"
She didn't answer.
Her hand was still on his chest.
Her eyes were still fixed on where her mana had disappeared.
This isn't possible.
Unless...
She pulled her hand away.
Stared at it.
Stared at him.
"Erza?" Yuuta leaned toward her, concerned. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Still nothing.
He waited.
Then, slowly, he stretched—testing his body, reveling in the returned energy. Whatever she'd done, it had worked. He felt better than he had all day.
"Thanks, Your highness." He smiled at her—that warm, infuriating smile. "I don't know what you did, but I feel really refreshed. I'm going to check on Elena."
He stood.
Walked toward the enclosure.
Toward their daughter.
Toward normalcy.
Erza watched him go.
Then she looked at her hand.
The hand that had poured mana into him.
The hand that should still be tingling with expended energy.
But it wasn't.
Because something else had happened.
Something impossible.
When she'd sent her mana into him, she'd felt it—a strange pull, a gentle tug, as if something inside him had recognized her power. And when she'd withdrawn her hand, she'd checked instinctively.
Her mana was gone.
Not just the part she'd given him.
More.
A small amount of her own 储备 (Zani)—her personal reserve—had been drawn out as well. Absorbed without her consent.
And not just her mana.
Her zani.
The two energies that flowed through all living things in her world. Mana—the power of magic and will. Zani—the power of life and death. They were separate. Distinct. Only divine beings could hold both.
Or those with a Zani core.
Or followers of Zareth.
But Yuuta was none of those things.
He was human.
A simple, ordinary, mortal human.
How?
Erza's mind spun through possibilities, discarding each one as quickly as it appeared.
I must be hallucinating, she thought finally. The low mana on this planet is affecting me. I used too much power earlier. I shared too much with him. My reserves are low. I'm imagining things.
She took a deep breath.
Let it out slowly.
Yes. That's it. Hallucination. Nothing more.
She leaned back on the bench.
Let her eyes drift toward the enclosure.
Toward Yuuta and Elena.
They were both laughing now—Elena pointing at a lion, Yuuta crouched beside her, explaining something with exaggerated gestures. She couldn't hear the words, but she could see Elena's delight. Could see the way Yuuta made silly faces to match his silly explanations.
They looked like idiots.
Happy idiots.
Stupid mortals, she thought.
And smiled.
Just a little.
Just enough.
---
Then she felt it.
A gaze.
Not casual. Not accidental. Not the passing glance of a tourist wondering why a beautiful woman was sitting alone on a bench.
This was different.
This was a predator's gaze.
Hungry.
Calculating.
Wrong.
Every instinct Erza had developed over centuries of survival screamed at once.
She didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't give any indication that she'd noticed.
Slowly—casually—she turned her head.
Toward the bush near the souvenir stall.
Toward the source.
Toward the darkness where something was watching.
Her violet eyes narrowed.
Found you.
Erza rose from the bench.
Her movement was fluid, deliberate—the motion of a predator who had just located prey. Her violet eyes fixed on the bush near the souvenir stall, on the darkness that seemed to pulse with something ancient and wrong.
She walked.
Not quickly. Not slowly. With the measured pace of a queen who had never needed to hurry for anyone or anything.
The souvenir stall bustled with activity. Tourists crowded the counter, purchasing last-minute trinkets—keychains shaped like lions, plush animals, postcards they would never send. Children tugged at their parents' sleeves, begging for ice cream. Couples posed for photos against the fading light.
None of them noticed the silver-haired woman walking past.
None of them sensed the danger in their midst.
Erza's eyes never left the bush.
Disgusting aura, she thought. I've felt this somewhere before.
The memory teased at the edges of her consciousness—a battle long ago, a demon she had faced in her younger centuries. But which one? Which of the countless creatures she had slaughtered had worn this particular stench?
She would find out soon enough.
She stopped before the bush.
It rustled.
Slightly.
Deliberately.
"You disgusting being." Her voice carried no heat, no emotion—only the absolute certainty of someone who had never feared anything in her existence. "Show yourself. You are in the presence of royalty."
A pause.
Then—
The bush parted.
And a man stepped out.
Golden hair caught the stall's lights, gleaming like spun sunlight. His body was sculpted to perfection—broad shoulders, narrow waist, muscles that seemed designed by someone who understood exactly what human eyes craved. His jawline could have been carved from marble. His eyes were the blue of a summer sky, bright and warm and utterly false.
He wore expensive clothes that somehow looked casual and curated at the same time. A thin chain glinted at his neck, and from it hung an evil eye pendant that seemed to pulse with its own dark rhythm.
He smiled.
Perfect teeth.
Perfect charm.
Perfect mask.
"Well, well," he murmured. "What do we have here?"
The stall erupted.
"OH MY GOD!"
"IT'S AARON MURU!"
"AARON! AARON! OVER HERE!"
"HE'S EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL IN PERSON!"
Women screamed. Their faces flushed. Their eyes glazed. Their bodies—completely without conscious thought—pressed toward him like flowers turning to the sun. Children stared in confusion. Men looked on with mixtures of envy and irritation.
Within seconds, Erza was surrounded.
A sea of bodies pushed against her.
Hands reached past her.
Voices shrieked his name.
"AARON! PLEASE! A SIGNATURE!"
"AARON! MARRY ME!"
"AARON! I LOVE YOU!"
The man—Aaron Muru—ate it up.
His smile widened. His eyes swept across the crowd, drinking in their adoration like a vampire drinking blood. He waved lazily, and more screams erupted.
But beneath that perfect mask—
Beneath those summer-sky eyes—
Something watched Erza.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
---
On the other side of the enclosure, Yuuta crouched beside Elena.
"See the baby lion, Papa?" Elena pointed at a cub tumbling through the grass. "It's playing! Like Elena plays!"
"Just like you," Yuuta agreed. "Except it has fur and you have a rabbit costume."
Elena giggled.
"Elena is a RABBIT today! Tomorrow Elena can be a LION!"
"That's... not how costumes work, sweetheart."
"YES IT IS!"
Yuuta laughed.
Then he looked around for Erza.
She wasn't on the bench.
His eyes scanned the area—the path, the other benches, the shadowed corners where she might be brooding about something. Nothing.
Where did she go?
He stood, lifting Elena onto his hip so he could see better.
That's when he noticed the crowd.
Near the souvenir stall.
A large crowd. Mostly women. Pressed together, shrieking, reaching, worshipping someone in their center.
And at the edge of that crowd—
Silver hair.
"Erza?"
He blinked.
She was standing there. Surrounded. Trapped. Her face was a mask of cold fury, but the crowd didn't notice—couldn't notice. They were too focused on whoever was at the center.
Yuuta's chest tightened.
She's stuck. If she loses control—
He remembered the bears.
Remembered the ice.
Remembered what happened when Erza felt threatened.
I have to get her out of there.
But as he took a step forward, another thought hit him.
Wait.
He looked at the crowd again.
At the women screaming.
At the man they were screaming for.
He must be famous. Some celebrity. Some model.
And Erza is standing right there.
Watching him.
Something cold settled in Yuuta's stomach.
Is she... interested?
He hated the thought immediately. Hated himself for thinking it. They weren't together. They weren't a couple. She'd made that abundantly clear. He was a disgusting mortal. She was a Dragon Queen. There was nothing between them.
Nothing.
So why do I care?
He shook his head violently.
"What are you doing?" he muttered to himself. "She's here to kill you eventually. Why do you care what kind of men she likes? Why do you—"
He stopped.
Because he felt it.
A wave of irritation.
Not his own.
Hers.
Somehow—impossibly—he could feel her emotions from across the distance. The annoyance. The barely contained fury. The absolute rage at being trapped by these pathetic humans when there was a demon to kill.
Yuuta laughed.
Actually laughed.
"Idiot," he said to himself. "Of course she's not interested in him, She hate humanity itself. She wants to murder him."
He started walking toward the crowd.
Toward Erza.
Toward whatever disaster was about to happen.
---
He was halfway there when he heard it.
A small voice.
From behind him.
"PAPA..."
Not excited.
Not happy.
Terrified.
Yuuta spun around.
The lion enclosure was still there.
But Elena—
Elena was gone.
To be continue...