I'm Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon!
Chapter 78: Primal Dragon

Chapter 78: Primal Dragon

(Erza’s POV)

"You think it’s funny to laugh at the captains?"

Her voice cut like a blade—sharp, ice-cold, and void of any emotion.

I didn’t flinch.

Sara Venom stood before me now. Pale skin. Raven-black coat swaying behind her like wings of ash. Eyes like obsidian glass, unreadable... except for the subtle flicker of challenge buried deep within them.

The whole field was quiet. Everyone watched us—waiting.

I slowly crossed my arms and met her gaze head-on.

"I laughed," I said, my voice cool, steady, "because the captains here are weak."

A wave of gasps echoed through the recruits. Even a few guards stiffened in place.

Sara’s brow twitched. "Pardon?"

"I said," I repeated, "you’re all weak. Claiming you’ve killed dragons... Clearly, none of you have met a real one."

The silence deepened. A tension like a coiled whip hung in the air.

"How dare you," she said, her tone trembling—not from fear, but fury, tightly controlled. "You insult our ranks? Our service?"

I didn’t blink. "If you were truly strong, how did you not sense the assassin Demon hiding in your own base?"

The words struck like thunder.

Eyes widened. Murmurs spread through the crowd like fire leaping across dry leaves. Even the captains looked confused.

Sara’s eyes narrowed. "What nonsense are you talking about?"

I raised one hand, pointing lazily toward a group of recruits—specifically, two figures cloaked in hoodies, standing just at the edge of the crowd.

They’d been standing still. Too still.

"Their bloodlust is constant," I said. "Yet none of you noticed."

The moment I spoke, the two figures flinched.

Guards began moving—too slowly.

The hooded ones realized they’d been exposed. They threw back their hoods, revealing twisted horns and glowing red eyes—demons.

"Damn it. We’ve been spotted!" one of them growled.

"Run!"

They barely made a step.

I didn’t even look at them.

With a casual flick of my fingers, a layer of frost erupted from my hand—racing across the field like a living tide. The air itself cracked with cold.

The two demons froze instantly. Not their whole bodies—just everything below the neck. Ice imprisoned them mid-step, their faces locked in shock. Their heads remained untouched, just enough for interrogation.

Gasps erupted from every corner of the training ground.

The guards backed off. Even some captains took an instinctive step away from me.

Not out of fear.

Out of awe.

Their mana signatures—those demons—they were strong. Strong enough to kill half the guards here. Maybe even challenge a captain.

But not me.

They were ants.

I let out a bored sigh, letting the cold air settle.

"Next time," I said aloud, "learn to recognize your enemies before bragging about slaying dragons."

A few recruits looked down in shame. Some stared at me like I was something unreal.

Sara didn’t say anything. Her lips were pressed in a tight line. I could tell—she hated being outdone.

But she was smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut.

Then a calm voice broke the silence.

"Erza, meet me in meeting room. Alone."

(Yuuta’s POV)

The sun was beginning to set, casting long orange shadows through the windows. The kitchen filled with the soft crackle of the stovetop and the faint scent of ginger and roasted garlic. I stirred the pot absently, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Where is she?

Erza had left early this morning. No note. No message. And now it was nearly evening. I kept glancing at the door, half-expecting it to swing open with her usual dramatic entrance, teasing me about dinner like she used to.

But things had changed.

She had changed.

The lazy, arrogant Erza who used to lounge on the couch all day, criticize my cooking, and call me "useless human" with a smirk... she was fading. Replaced by someone colder. Distant. Always pushing herself too far, too fast.

I missed the old her. The one who used to be annoyingly present.

Now, it felt like I was waiting for a ghost.

As I flipped the stove off and grabbed plates, I heard Elena’s voice in the living room.

"Great Grandpa! Can you tell me a story about Dragon queens?"

I paused at the name. Queen... who?

Grandpa chuckled, his voice low and rough with age. "Kiddo, you’re too young to hear that kind of story."

"Everyone keeps saying that!" Elena puffed her cheeks. "But no one ever tells me why. Why can’t I know about her?"

I leaned against the kitchen doorway, curious now. Grandpa glanced at me, then back at her.

"Alright. But you have to promise me—don’t tell your mother I told you this."

"I promise!" Elena raised both hands dramatically, swearing her eternal silence.

Grandpa took a deep breath.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth. The stew was long forgotten, its scent wafting through the house, but my attention was no longer in the kitchen.

It was here.

With them.

"Alright, little one," Grandpa finally said to Elena, resting a weathered hand on his cane. "If you want to hear about Queen Seraphina... then I’ll show you what words alone can’t describe."

He raised his other hand, palm upward.

I barely blinked—then something shimmered in the air.

A faint glimmer of silver light appeared above his hand. Then another. Like stardust gathering in the breeze. One by one, they sparked to life until the entire room was bathed in gentle light—twinkling, floating, glowing like the night sky had spilled through our ceiling.

Elena gasped in awe.

I blinked and looked around. The walls disappeared. The furniture faded. The fire’s warmth remained, but everything else... transformed.

The living room was gone.

In its place, we sat in a boundless space of stars and silence, like floating in a dream between dimensions.

"...Whoa," I breathed. "This is like—like some kind of VFX theater."

I quickly wiped my hands and left the kitchen, hurrying over to sit beside Elena on the floor. She had both hands on her knees, eyes wide and shining like twin suns.

I’d seen illusion magic before. Sure. But this? This wasn’t a trick.

This was a memory made real.

A story we weren’t just hearing—we were living.

Grandpa’s voice changed—deeper now, echoing slightly, like a narrator speaking across time itself.

"Long ago, before mortals walked, before light touched the mountains, and before gods had names..."

The illusion shifted.

From the starry void rose a towering figure cloaked in celestial gold—his features unknowable, his form radiant yet serene. The illusion of God.

He extended his arms and breathed out stars. Planets swirled into being. Twin realms took shape—Heaven and Nova, side by side in radiant harmony.

"He created perfection," Grandpa continued. "A realm above and a realm below. A mirror of grace and gravity. And in His joy, He gave birth to guardians."

The stars pulsed again.

From the center of the void came seven colossal dragons, each coiled in elegance and power. Their scales shimmered with pure elemental force—blue like oceans, red like molten fire, green like forest canopies, and more.

"They were Queens. The First Ones. The Primal Dragons."

Each one was introduced as the illusion swirled around them. A voice named them softly, like poetry:

Blue, Queen of Oceans and Calm.

Red, the Eternal Flame.

Green, Mother of Beasts and Forests.

Yellow, Lightning Made Flesh.

White, Light of Wisdom. (Snow)

Violet, Weaver of Dreams. (ILUSION)

And Black... The Queen of Silence and Strength. The Void itself. (Shadow)

She appeared last.

And even in this illusion, she was something different.

She didn’t shine. She absorbed light. A shadow of regal poise, her eyes glowing like dying stars. Her wings spread like the cosmos itself—terrifying and beautiful all at once.

"She was the eldest," Grandpa said softly. "The strongest. But also... the loneliest."

Elena reached out slightly, as if she could touch the figure. Her small fingers passed through the magic, leaving trails of glittering light.

"She never bowed. Never obeyed. She protected without question—but love, emotion, devotion? Those were beneath her."

Then the scene changed.

The dragons stood together before a golden throne. God’s voice spoke—not with words, but a divine presence that rippled across the cosmos.

"To six of them," Grandpa said, "He offered a gift."

From each dragon’s chest, a glowing bone shard floated out, morphing into eggs. From the eggs, baby dragons hatched—small, glowing, innocent.

Life.

Legacy.

But for the Black Dragon, there was nothing.

"Why?" Elena whispered.

"Because she never asked," Grandpa replied.

And for the first time, the Black Dragon looked uncertain.

The illusion moved again.

The White Dragon’s garden. Peaceful skies. Blossoming trees made of starlight. And in that gentle space, a tiny white dragonling played, tumbling clumsily through the grass.

The Black Queen watched from afar.

She stepped closer.

And when the child giggled at her—the strongest being in creation—she didn’t turn away.

She smiled.

And laughed.

The illusion played her laugh like music—a strange, echoing chime in the silence of the cosmos.

Then she turned to the White Dragon.

"How... do you have a child?"

The White Queen smiled softly.

"God gave us this gift. From our bones, life is born."

The Black Queen took flight.

The stars blurred around her. She soared beyond mountains, through heavens, past planets and moons—until she reached the gates of Heaven itself.

She stood tall.

But when she spoke, her voice cracked.

"I want a child," she said. "Please."

The light answered.

"No."

And that one word...

Shattered everything.

The illusion faded slowly—like morning mist.

We were back in the room. The fire crackled once again. The walls returned.

Elena was sleepy, lips parted.

Even I... couldn’t speak for a while.

"She disappeared after that," Grandpa said, quieter now. "Some say she fell into madness. Others say she vanished into the void, never to be seen again."

"But the rumor lives on... that the Black Dragon did find a way. That she did have a child.

A Son born not from blessing... but from will."

He looked at me then. Just for a moment. Not long.

But long enough to chill me.

Elena had fallen asleep halfway through the story.

Her small form was curled up beside me, breathing softly, arms wrapped around a blanket like it was her treasure. So peaceful. So trusting. She had no idea the story she’d asked for was far more than a fairy tale.

But I knew.

Something didn’t sit right. Grandpa’s voice, the way he ended the tale... too clean. Too safe.

I stared at the slowly fading sparkles still drifting through the air, remnants of the illusion spell. Then looked at Grandpa. His face was unreadable—calm, knowing, too calm.

"Granpa," I said, quietly. "You lied, didn’t you?"

He paused, as if he hadn’t heard me. Then a soft chuckle escaped his throat.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, smiling just a little. "How did you know?"

I leaned back, folding my arms. "Because that story was... too polished. Too smooth. I’ve read enough censored myths in human religion to recognize when someone’s scrubbing history clean for the sake of children."

Grandpa gave a deep, approving laugh and scratched his beard. "You’ve grown sharper than I expected, boy."

"So?" I said. "What’s the real story?"

"You sure you want to know?" he asked. "The truth isn’t gentle. It doesn’t end with golden light and singing birds."

"You’re the one who started this," I said, smirking. "Don’t you dare stop now."

He leaned forward slightly.

And then, in a voice quieter than before—but ten times heavier—he said:

"The beginning of the story is true," he said at last. "God did create seven Primal Dragons. Celestial beings. Guardians of existence itself."

"But the last one... the Black Dragon Queen..."

He lowered his voice.

"She was born different. While the others carried light, storms, oceans, fire—she was made of something older. Something darker."

I waited, heartbeat slowing as his words sank in.

"She was born from the silence between creation and destruction. She was death, Yuuta. Not cruelty. Not evil. Just... finality."

"While the others bowed to God, she stood apart. Not because she hated Him. But because she had no need for Him."

"She didn’t follow orders. She didn’t ask for purpose."

"She was power without permission."

I swallowed, eyes fixed on him. "So... God feared her?"

"No," Grandpa said. "He respected her. But He couldn’t control her."

He leaned forward now, voice growing colder.

"So when He offered the blessing to create life... she didn’t come."

"She didn’t want it?"

"She didn’t believe in it," he said. "She saw it as weakness. Emotion. Attachment."

"So the others were blessed, and she was left behind."

"Yes. But here’s the twist."

"Years has been passed. Then, one day, the Black Dragon—still cold, still proud—paid a visit to her sister out of boredom, the White Dragon. A simple visit. Nothing more. But while she was there..."

He looked at me carefully.

"She saw them."

"The children," I said quietly.

"Yes. Eight little white dragons. Running, laughing, calling their mother ’Mama.’"

He smiled, sadly.

"She was stunned. Frozen. It broke something inside her—seeing those children. Something she didn’t even know was missing."

I could almost see her, in my mind—the most powerful being in the world—brought to silence by the sight of children playing.

"She asked, ’Where did they come from?’"

"The White Dragon smiled and said, ’God blessed us. From our bones, we created them.’"

"And what did the Black Queen say?" I asked.

Grandpa smirked. "She scoffed. ’Good thing I missed that stupid blessing. Children are just trouble.’"

But he paused again. And I knew—that wasn’t how she truly felt.

"She stayed longer than she meant to. Days passed. Then weeks. She spent time with the children. Played with them. Protected them. She laughed for the first time in her life."

"She didn’t say it," Grandpa said. "But in her heart, she knew: she wanted one. Her own."

I swallowed. "So what did she do?"

Grandpa looked at me sharply now, as if measuring me. Judging whether I could handle what came next.

"What happened next," he said slowly, "is something most people would call foolishness. Or tragedy. But it happened."

He leaned closer.

"And once you hear it... you’ll be heartbroken."

What??.

To be continued...

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