I'm Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon!-Chapter 48: The Day Her Rage Woke the Heavens

(Yuuta's POV)

Everything's fading.

My vision blurs, the edges darkening like spilled ink soaking into old parchment. I can barely see anymore, but I know—she's on a rampage.

Erza... she's completely lost control.

The calm, composed girl I knew is gone, replaced by a force of pure fury.

I try to move, but my body lies paralyzed, pinned by pain and exhaustion. No matter how much I scream at my limbs, they won't respond.

Move... damn it, move!

Stupid body!

But nothing. Just the crushing silence of my own helplessness.

I'm drifting deeper into darkness, and if I don't do something, someone will see the truth—what she really is. I force myself to lift a finger, to scream, to crawl... but it's like sinking into tar.

The more I fight, the deeper I fall. I have to stop her. I have to.

But my thoughts begin to scatter, my consciousness flickering like a dying flame. Then...

nothing.

Just endless, devouring black. So this is how it ends. I couldn't stop her. I died like Coward infront of My daughter.

I gave myself to the dark, and I was ready to vanish—until I felt it.

Warmth.

Gentle, golden warmth, like sunlight after the rain.

It pulled me back. Not pain, not cold—something soft, living. I'm no longer drowning.

I'm standing.

Grass brushes against my legs, green and swaying beneath a clear sky.

I open my eyes with a gasp—no pain, no blood, no wounds. My body is whole, untouched not even a scar. As if nothing ever happened. I glance around, dazed.

Then I see her—Sister Mary. Kneeling in prayer, her hands trembling, lips moving through whispered words.

"Thank God... you're safe now," she breathes, her voice raw. My heart thunders. Was it her? Did she bring me back?

Nearby, Sam lies in the grass, unconscious but unharmed. No blood, no wounds. freewebnσvel.cѳm

Elena clung to my shirt, her little fingers digging into the fabric like she was afraid I'd vanish again.

I placed my hand gently on her head, stroking her hair as I whispered,

"Don't worry, Papa's okay."

She sobbed quietly into my chest.

"I thought I lost you..."

"I know," I said. "I'm here now."

Sister Mary stood beside us, her expression caught between shock and relief. I could feel her eyes trying to make sense of everything.

And then I felt it. The shift in the air. The silent tension.

I turned. Not far away maybe ten, twelve feet—three figures stood in formation.

Each of them wore a full black battle suit, heavy with gear. Masks covered their faces: a phoenix, a lion, and an eagle.

They looked like they'd stepped out of a military sci-fi movie—but their presence was real, and their silence was louder than any siren.

They weren't just watching us.

They were assessing.

The phoenix-mask stepped forward first. Her voice was calm, cold, and practiced.

"Civilian identified. Yuuta Konuari,

correct?

Any injuries to you or the child?"

I hesitated.

"Yes. I mean—no. We're fine."

Before I could ask who they were or what they were doing here, the lion-mask turned abruptly.

"Captain Phoenix," he said sharply. "Visual confirmation. Aerial presence detected, two o'clock, approximately 300 meters altitude."

The woman in the phoenix mask turned her gaze skyward.

I followed.

At first, I saw nothing.

But then—

A flicker. A shimmer of magic above the clouds.

And I knew.

Erza.

(Erza's POV)

I hovered in the air, the wind silent, as if the world itself held its breath.

Below me, the shards of ice sparkled like fallen stars—each one a piece of a girl who once breathed, once laughed, once dreamed.

She was gone.

I didn't cry. I couldn't.

The pain had long since carved itself into my bones, dull and deep, too old for tears now.

My hand trembled as I raised it, stained in blood.

Not mine.

It never is.

I've seen blood before—too much of it.

I used to wear it like a crown, like a warrior's perfume. Back then, my Darno Ice Sword gleamed crimson with every life I took.

I killed humans without mercy. Without reason. For fun.

And yet now, I hesitate.

Because I promised I was different.

Because I wanted to believe I had changed.

But change is a luxury for those who have time.

And I'm out of time.

He's slipping away from me. Again.

And every time I choose peace, I lose someone I love.

Every time I stay my hand, someone else bleeds instead.

No more.

Something inside me snapped.

Like a fragile thread under too much pressure, it broke—and with it, any sense of control.

All that remains is fire. Rage floods my veins like molten metal, searing away hesitation and mercy.

They tried to kill Yuuta.

My mortal.

My heart.

My soul.

I open my mouth and what tears out isn't a scream—it's a roar.

A beast's cry, loud enough to rattle the sky. Let them hear it.

Let them know. I will not forgive them.

A man appears on skyscraper, clad in black tactical gear with the Black Viper insignia on his shoulder.

He lifts a sniper rifle, hands shaking.

Bam.

The bullet hits me square in the head—then falls, dented, useless.

My scales are tougher than any forged steel. I turn slowly, eyes locked on him.

"You..." I snarl, voice low and rumbling, "must be with the Black Viper gang." I step toward him, slow and deliberate.

"You're the ones who hurt my mortal." His eyes widen with terror.

Before he can turn to run, I blink forward—teleporting in a flash of frost. He freezes. I grab his head with both hands, squeezing like a vice.

"Where's your hideout?" I ask, tone chillingly calm.

He stammers, then lifts a trembling hand and points to the port.

That's all I need. With a single twist press, I crush his skull. Blood splashes across the rooftop wall.

"You'll all pay," I whisper, eyes glowing with fury. "How dare you touch what's mine."

I summon my blade—magic long forgotten by mortal wars. Ice and arcane energy coil into a sword, its surface glowing with blue runes. It hums like a living thing, eager for blood.

"My sword," I murmur, "it's time to spill some blood."

The wind howled past my ears as I unfurled my wings and rose into the open sky, cutting through the chill like a blade. The cold stung my skin, but my heart boiled with fury.

I climbed higher, breaking through clouds, eyes locked on the distant port.From up here, the world looked deceptively calm—silent, still—but I felt them.

Beneath the steel and concrete, behind the crates and shadows, they were waiting.

Watching.

Anticipating.

They knew I was coming.

Good.

I descended like a comet. The world blurred. The sky itself seemed to cower as I plummeted, wings drawn in tight until the last moment.

I landed with thunderous force—my feet cracking the concrete, wings outstretched in defiance. The impact sent a shockwave tearing through the docks. Containers shook. Cranes groaned.

Men stumbled back, their courage faltering before the battle even began.

Dust billowed around me like smoke from a fire long overdue.

I said nothing.

Just stood tall, the silence more deafening than any war cry.

Then I drew my blade—the Darno Iceblade, humming with runes, whispering cold death. Frost curled along its edge, eager.

It had been years since I wielded it like this. Too long.

Today, it would drink deep.

The first swing ended a life before the fool even raised his rifle.

The others barely had time to scream.

I moved through the storm like vengeance made flesh—silver and crimson slicing through steel and bone. Bullets cracked the air, but none touched me.

I was too fast.

Too furious.

Their fear drowned out their orders. They fell one by one, their blood painting the docks like a brutal tapestry.

In mere minutes, twenty bodies lay broken across the port.

Their blood soaked into my dress, slicked my arms, stained the earth beneath my feet. But none of it slowed me.

If anything, it made me stronger. Because in my mind burned the image of Yuuta—lying there, helpless, wounded. The pain in his eyes.

The tremble in his voice. I would never forget it. I would never forgive it.

Then the true hunt began. From the shadows came heavier footsteps.

The next wave. Tactical units, geared and grim-faced. Their formation was tight, trained. Their guns were primed.

But I recognized the one in the middle. The leader.

The bastard who gave the order to shoot Yuuta. Rage surged through me like a flood.

They spread out, taking cover behind shipping containers, cranes, rusted vehicles. As if that would save them.

As if hiding made them warriors. No... they were prey.

I stepped forward, my blade gleaming, frost hissing from its core. My eyes locked onto theirs. My voice was a whisper, carried by the wind, yet heavy as judgment.

"You touched what I love dearly. Now you'll drown in the consequences."

My aura flared, dark and thick, curling into the sky like a living storm.

The heavens darkened above.

The air itself grew heavier, harder to breathe. Their hands trembled. Their eyes widened. And still—I walked toward them, the reaper in a red dress.

This was just the beginning.

To be continued...