(Erza's POV )
We stepped away from the noise of the training grounds, deeper into the compound where the walls were thicker, the lights colder, and the silence—heavier.
The room she brought me to wasn't ordinary. I knew that the moment I crossed the threshold.
It was sealed.
Tightly.
White walls stretched out in every direction, spotless and sterile. No windows. No second exit. Just one door, now locked behind us. The air had the faint metallic chill of something artificial—something meant to keep things in, or maybe… keep others out.
Suspicious.
Too suspicious.
I could feel the hum of my magic rising in my blood. A familiar warmth coiling through my fingers, begging to be released. One spark, and I could freeze this entire room in an instant. I was already calculating the spell.
She turned to face me—calmly, quietly. Her eyes searched mine, not with hostility, but with intent. She wasn't here to fight. Not yet.
"I should've known," she said finally, her voice low, almost to herself. "The moment I saw the footage from the port... the aura—raw, overwhelming, ancient…"
I didn't reply. I didn't blink.
My magic simmered just beneath my skin, hot and ready.
She took a small step forward, folding her hands behind her back. Her movements were deliberate—measured, like someone approaching a wild animal.
"You're not hiding it now," she murmured. "I can feel it. You're barely holding yourself back."
Still, I said nothing.
She looked me straight in the eye.
"You're the most powerful monster I've ever seen."
I let a cold smile touch my lips. "So you knew," I said softly. "That I'm a monster. How predictable."
She didn't flinch. "I knew it was you. The one at the port. The one who left the harbor in ruins. The one who killed them."
I tilted my head. "Yes. That was me. And?"
My voice was sharper now. I let it cut.
"Going to kill me for it, Interrogation Queen?"
Her expression didn't change, but there was a flicker in her eyes—a trace of unease.
She took a breath. "Who are you really?"
I raised an eyebrow, amused. "Why don't you use one of your little tricks and find out?"
She shook her head. "No. If I touch you, I'll die. You've layered yourself with so many wards and curses I'd explode before I even reached your memories."
She wasn't wrong.
The air was heavier now—thicker with magic. It circled around us like invisible smoke, dense and electric. She could feel it pressing down on her bones. Her breath had grown short.
Still, she stood her ground.
"You were ready to kill me the moment we walked in here."
I gave a faint nod. "And you're just figuring that out?"
She exhaled, slow and steady. "I've lived for over three centuries. I know what death looks like when it stares me in the eye."
Then her voice shifted. A little colder.
"You're a coward."
I blinked.
"What did you just say?"
She held my gaze, unflinching.
"You're too afraid to accept what you are. Too afraid to stop hiding."
My aura flared before I could stop it. The walls trembled.
I stepped forward. Just once.
She gasped as the pressure forced her to her knees. Her body shook. Even her bones groaned under the weight of my magic.
"Do I look afraid to you?" I asked quietly.
My voice was frost.
"I am Erza. Dragon Queen of the Atlantis Kingdom. You think I fear a squeaking little bat like you?"
Her eyes widened. Just a fraction.
"Dragon…?"
And in that instant, I realized what I had said.
Damn it.
I had spoken too much.
For a moment, there was only silence between us.
Then—she laughed.
Not mockingly. Not out of triumph.
It was wild. Shaky. Laced with something far older than joy—relief, madness, desperation.
"I've been searching…" she whispered. Her voice cracked on the words. "Searching for a dragon for over a hundred years…"
She stumbled forward.
And then—
She dropped to her knees. Not from my power this time. She had lowered herself.
Willingly.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. Real ones. Old ones.
She looked up at me—not with fear. Not with hatred.
But with longing.
"Oh Queen," she whispered. Her voice trembled like she was praying.
"Please... take me back to Nova World. I'm tired. So tired of this hollow place. Tired of pretending. Tired of hiding what I am."
She reached a hand out—not to attack.
But to plead.
"I don't want to be human anymore."
What the fuck is that??? I said completly shocked. This is the chief We were afraid of now begging like child!.
(Yuuta's POV)
"Why…?"
The word slipped out of me before I could catch it—soft, raw, and trembling.
"Why would a Hero draw his sword against her?" I asked, barely above a whisper. "What could she have possibly done… to deserve that?"
Grandpa didn't answer right away. He leaned back in sofa, the creak of it echoing through the quiet room. His gaze drifted toward the window, but I knew he wasn't looking at anything outside.
He was looking back—into the past scroll.
Finally, with a heavy breath, he spoke.
"The Hero didn't move on his own, not at first," he said. His voice had changed—lower, wearier. "He was sent by the Holy Church of Eden. And their word… is law."
I frowned. "But why? She wasn't hurting anyone. She didn't even—"
"They didn't care," Grandpa cut in gently. "To them, it didn't matter if she was peaceful. Or hidden. Or pregnant. She was a dragon. That alone made her a threat to their beliefs."
I felt my jaw clench.
He continued. "The Church considers dragons to be abominations—creatures that defy nature. Doesn't matter how noble their heart is. To the Church, they're monsters wrapped in lies."
I looked down at my hands, curled tightly in my lap. My nails dug into my palms, but I didn't loosen my grip.
"They found her, didn't they?" I asked.
Grandpa nodded slowly. "One way or another. Maybe someone betrayed her. Maybe they sensed her aura, even in human form. Or maybe… they just guessed and got lucky. But when they came, they didn't come alone."
He turned his gaze to me, eyes hardening.
"They sent a full party. The Hero. A deadly archer. A holy healer. A shield-bearer who could withstand a dragon's breath. And a fire mage who could reduce a city to dust. They were ready for war."
He paused, then added, "But what they found… wasn't a battlefield."
The silence between us deepened.
"She was living quietly," Grandpa said after a moment. "Tucked away in a small monster village—far from the main cities, far from the war. It was a forgotten place. Peaceful. The kind of place where no one asked questions, and no one cared what you looked like."
My chest tightened.
"Zareth had taken her human form," Grandpa went on. "She had long since shed her title. She wasn't a queen anymore. She wasn't a dragon. Just… a woman. Tired. Alone. And expecting a child she had waited a thousand years to meet."
My voice caught in my throat.
"And the villagers?" I managed to ask.
"They embraced her," Grandpa said, his voice quieter now. "She helped them when she could. Gathering herbs. Cooking meals. Watching the children. She lived without magic. Without fire or wings. Just… life."
"She didn't rule there," he added. "She didn't build the village, didn't claim it. She found it. And for the first time in her long, cursed life… she belonged."
I swallowed hard. The lump in my throat refused to go down.
Why does this hurt so much?
Why do I feel like I'm remembering something that doesn't even belong to me?
I looked at Grandpa, but he was lost in the story now, his voice no longer just telling—it was mourning.
"She was happy," he said. "For a moment. The villagers didn't know who she really was, and they didn't care. To them, she was just Zareth—the gentle human woman with a soft smile and kind hands. And she loved them. She loved the village like it was her own."
He exhaled slowly, eyes darkening.
"But peace…" he said, "never lasts long for those born in chaos."
I felt my heart sink.
"When the Hero's party arrived," he said, "they didn't hesitate. They were following orders. They didn't ask questions."
"The villagers tried to protect her. They stood in front of her home. Shielded her with their bodies. And they died for it."
The words hit me like cold steel.
"They were slaughtered," Grandpa said bitterly. "The village was burned. Ashes and bones. All because the Church believed a dragon might be hiding there."
My hands were shaking.
"And Zareth?" I whispered.
"She knew," Grandpa said softly. "She sensed them coming long before they reached the village. She could have run. Disappeared into the mountains. Called her royal guards. Turned the land to ice and flame."
"But she didn't."
"She didn't even lift a hand."
"She stepped out of her home. Barefoot. Her robe stained with soil from the garden. One hand resting gently on her swollen belly."
"She stood there in the open… and waited."
"She was angry," Grandpa said, voice barely more than a whisper. "No… not just angry—she was in a rage the likes of which this world had never seen."
He stared into the fire, the light flickering against his wrinkled face like dying stars.
"When she stepped into the smoke-filled village square, she saw them—children, monster children, lifeless in their mothers' arms. Homes burned to the ground. Blood soaked into the dirt. And her heart… broke."
I couldn't breathe.
"She looked at the Hero," Grandpa continued, "and her voice trembled—not with fear, but fury. 'Do you know what it means to be a mother?' she asked him."
I felt the weight of those words lodge deep in my chest.
"The Hero—young, proud, holy in the way only the blind can be—sneered. 'What are you saying, monster?'"
"'You slaughtered innocent children in front of their mothers,' she said. 'What kind of justice is that? What kind of god calls that heroic?'"
My hands clenched. I hated this Hero without even knowing his name.
"She told him something then," Grandpa said, his voice rough. 'Being a mother is a blessing. And those who destroy blessings can never be heroes.'
I felt it—those words. Like a blade sliding under my ribs.
The Hero raised his sword.
' it's useless you can't convience me with your word alone, You'll die here, Black Dragon Queen,' he said coldly.
But she didn't flinch.
Grandpa's eyes flickered with awe. "She let out a breath—and with it, her aura spread."
The fire in our hearth flickered, as if even the memory of her power stirred the air.
"Just her aura, Yuuta," Grandpa said. "No spell. No transformation. Just the pressure of her soul. It bent the trees. Shook the ground. It silenced the birds."
And then—three figures appeared.
Her Royal Guard.
"They were summoned instantly," Grandpa said. "Three royal guardian unlike any the world had seen they were awaken. Her most loyal warriors and adopted child. Beasts cloaked in armor and shadow, forged in battle and bound to her by something stronger than magic—love."
He paused. His voice cracked.
"She looked at them, and with sorrow in her eyes, gave the order: 'Kill them all.'"
The silence that followed felt eternal.
"She didn't say it for vengeance," Grandpa added. "She said it because justice had to exist somewhere. And if not in gods… then in her."
The battle that followed was a storm of legends.
The Hero's party fought back with every ounce of their strength. The archer loosed arrows that split mountains. The healer bent time to slow death. The mage's fire devoured half the forest. And the Hero himself… he clashed blades with Zareth, holy light against buried fury.
But she was too strong.
"Even sealed—90% of her power locked away by divine decree—she overpowered him," Grandpa said. "Every step he took, she countered. Every strike, she broke. And all the while, she shouted between breaths: 'why I didn't harm anyone yet you killed many Villager, why your action called righteous but mine evil.?'"
I felt a lump rising in my throat. My body trembled with emotion I couldn't name.
"She screamed at him between strikes, 'You call yourself a savior. But you save only humanity. You think the world belongs to your kind alone, greedy beast like you favour by God. You kill anything different and powrful—do you believe humanity is the only part of this world? What about us?'"
I gripped my knees, my chest tight with rage and sorrow.
The Hero, Grandpa said, had no answer. Only anger. Only fear.
"'Shut up!' he roared back. And then… he saw something. A flicker of hope."
"And then," Grandpa said quietly, "it happened."
I looked at him, eyes wide.
"She staggered," he said. "Dropped to her knees, one hand bracing her stomach."
The world around us seemed to still.
"She was in labor her baby wants to come out."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"She cried out—not from a wound, not from fear—but from the agony of giving life. Right there, in the heart of battle, with smoke choking the sky and blood soaking the ground."
I stared into the fire, barely breathing.
"She was human in that moment and she was feeling human pregnancy pain," Grandpa said. "Utterly, terrifyingly human. Vulnerable."
"And the Hero?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Didn't he see? Didn't he understand?"
"He didn't hesitate," Grandpa whispered. "He thought it was an illusion. A trick. The Church told him the baby wasn't real. They told him dragons couldn't create life like humans do. So… he raised his sword."
I stood, the wooden floor groaning beneath my feet.
"How could he…?" I couldn't even finish the sentence.
"He used his final move," Grandpa said. "Divine Departure—Sacred Light. An ancient, holy technique. It drained half his life. Created a blade of celestial energy that could pierce even a god's veil."
"And she knew," he said. "She knew she wouldn't die. But her baby… would."
"She hesitated for a moment," Grandpa whispered. "
"So she did the only thing her instincts would allow."
"And then… she transformed."
The fire flared, as if echoing the moment.
"She broke the condition set by God. She became a dragon again… while pregnant."
I froze. "And the curse?"
Grandpa looked up, eyes heavy.
"It activated."
"Activate.?? What happen to her child"
"Her child was Dead.!!!"
Death.!
To be continue...
(Question for Readers)
Hey… it's me Yuuta Konuari
Well,
Who do you think was right?
The Hero, who believed that the descendants of Zareth would bring chaos again… so he decided to stop it before it could ever begin. He killed monsters, yes—but also save innocent people. He thought if her child ever became king or queen, the world would suffer. So he destroyed everything tied to her bloodline.
Or…
Zareth, who waited a thousand years. She gave up her power, left everything behind, just to live a quiet life and have a child. She could've ruled the world… but instead, she chose to protect it. She chose peace. She even saved people.
But… is that enough to erase the fear her name brings?
One wanted to erase a threat before it was born.
The other wanted to rewrite her fate through love.
So tell me…my dear readers.
Who was really right?
Was it justice… or was it mercy?
Let me know what you think.