The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 48: A Crack

"Summon entity...Demon."

[Denied! Prohibited within Dracula’s law.]

"...what!? ...fucking hell. Come on... come on." Atlas growled through gritted teeth, desperation clawing at his heart as he poured every ounce of mana he could muster into the glowing crimson circle beneath him. "...just need a single demon, to crack this law....only fucking one!"

[Denied! Prohibited in Dracula’s Law.]

[Denied!]

[Denied!]

".....I ain’t stopping just because of someone’s...shitty law!" he snarled, his voice raw with defiance. His small frame trembled violently as waves of mana surged from his body, burning brighter and brighter like molten fire coursing through his veins. Sweat drenched his skin, his breath came in ragged gasps, but still, he pushed harder. Every fiber of his being screamed for release—for salvation.

[Denied!]

[Denied!]...

The ground shook beneath him, trembling violently as if the very earth recoiled from his audacity. The air warped around him, pulling at his senses once more, dragging him toward the dream-like illusion that sought to imprison him. But Atlas refused to yield. He unleashed every amplification skill he possessed, compensating for the oppressive drag of fate itself. Crimson light radiated from his core, illuminating the room in an eerie glow as his body burned from the inside out. Dehydration wracked his muscles; exhaustion clawed at his mind.

His vision blurred, growing dimmer by the second as unconsciousness threatened to claim him. But even then, even when his legs buckled under the strain, he forced himself back up, biting back the pain.

"...not yet..." he rasped, steeling his resolve. "This is not enough....not damn enough...I have fallen before, and this ain’t enough, you undead bitch!"

[Demon King’s heart resonating]

Suddenly, something shifted—a primal resonance deep within his chest. His heartbeat thundered like war drums, syncing perfectly with his body and mind. Blood pumped faster, hotter, surging through his veins as fresh mana flooded his system. It was overwhelming, nearly unbearable—but it fueled him. Fueled his rage. Fueled his determination.

"....haaaaaAAAAAAA!!!"

[Denied! Prohibite....error....Dracula’s Law....error..]

Crack!

[Error]

[Error]

[Error]

Crack!....Crack!

[One of Dracula’s Laws has been weakened]

"Come out...FUCKER!!" Atlas roared, his voice tearing through the chaos like a blade slicing through silk.

The summoning circle erupted into blinding light, its size expanding exponentially until it engulfed the entirety of Berkimhum Castle. The crimson glow illuminated the night sky, casting grotesque shadows across the land. From the depths of the circle emerged a colossal skull-like demon, its horns piercing the heavens themselves. With each step, the castle crumbled beneath its massive feet, reduced to rubble as it rose higher and higher, reaching for the stars.

And it wasn’t alone. Dozens—no, hundreds—of demons spilled forth from the rift. Some were giants wielding weapons forged from obsidian flames, while others were smaller, sleeker creatures armed with claws sharp enough to rend steel. They all shared one thing in common: hatred. Centuries of pent-up rage directed at their sworn enemy—the Overlord. The Undead King. Dracula.

"I @$@%%@%%$ CHALLENGE DRACULA, LORD OF DREAMS!!!!" bellowed the towering demon leader, its voice shaking the foundations of reality itself.

"Hhhaaaa!!!!!!" echoed the horde of demons, their cries reverberating like a symphony of destruction. This was their chance—their moment to avenge centuries of humiliation, defeat, and suffering.

Amidst the carnage, Atlas emerged from the debris, battered but unbroken. Blood trickled down his temple, his clothes torn and singed, but his golden eyes burned with unwavering resolve. He surveyed the scene before him, taking in the sheer magnitude of what he had unleashed.

"...this should be more than enough. Now I need to go save...Lara," he muttered, turning his gaze toward Isabella’s separate palace. Miraculously, it remained largely untouched amidst the chaos.

But before he could take another step, searing pain shot through his shoulder. A crimson arrow protruded from his flesh, its tip gleaming wickedly in the dim light. "...I don’t have time for this shit..." he hissed, spinning around to face the source.

From the wreckage emerged goblin-like creatures, their grotesque forms twisted and malformed. Their beady eyes glinted with malice as they locked onto Atlas, sniffing the air like predators catching the scent of prey.

"Why is a human here in the realm of dreams??....." one of them sneered, baring jagged teeth.

"Huh...wait, I smell another one....." another muttered, tilting its head curiously.

"Haaa.....for fuck’s sake." Atlas sighed, rolling his shoulders despite the pain. "Come on then, cunts..."

Slice!

But suddenly, Atlas was drenched in a rain of blood as the heads of the red goblins fell around him—one by one, like macabre confetti.

"...what!?" he voiced, confusion rippling through his voice.

Clap!

Clap!

Clap!

"Always a surprise... I mean... always... how the fuck do you DO this, ATLAS?!"

Atlas’s eyes widened instantly. The familiar cadence of the voice hit him like a freight train, stirring memories buried deep within his soul. The accent, the tone, the way his name rolled off their tongue—it all screamed familiarity. There was only one person it could be. Only one demon who had started this mess.

"...so you also came out, huh," Atlas muttered grimly, his gaze snapping upward toward the debris clouding the air. From the chaos emerged a figure cloaked in crimson flames, his many horns crowning him like some twisted monarch, flapping bat-like wings casting eerie shadows across the battlefield.

"...I am much stronger now," Atlas warned, his voice low but laced with menace.

The crimson demon landed lightly before him, tilting his head in awe. He sniffed the air, catching the scent of betrayal—the burning life force radiating from Atlas’s very core. It carried the faintest trace of Serpent’s essence, mingling with something darker, heavier.

"....your heart..." the crimson demon murmured, his expression shifting between admiration and disbelief. "...well, questions are running through me like bedbugs... but I think you have much more pressing matters at hand." He pointed casually toward Isabella’s mansion.

Atlas hesitated for a split second, glancing back at the palace. Then, without another word, he bolted forward, leaping through a shattered window into the mansion. His golden eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for Lara. But what he found instead made his blood boil hotter than any firestorm.

’...I should have come sooner,’ Atlas thought, rage igniting like wildfire in his chest.

With an animalistic roar, he dove inside, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. What greeted him was a scene straight out of hell—a grown man forcing himself on young Lara, her cries finally piercing his ears.

"GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS!!!!....." Atlas bellowed, bursting into the room like a tempest unleashed. Without hesitation, he launched himself at the marquise, delivering a devastating punch that sent teeth flying across the floor.

"OOOFFF MY SISTER!!!!!" Atlas roared, each syllable dripping with venom. He struck again and again, relentless and unyielding, until the man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

But Atlas didn’t stop there. With every ounce of hatred coursing through his veins, he kept slamming his fist into the man’s skull, shattering bone and flesh until his hand reached the mushy remains of the brain beneath. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t real—it was just a memory, a manifestation of Lara’s trauma. But something inside him snapped regardless, as it gnawed on him.

Baam!

"I’m sorry..."

Baam!

"I’m sorry... I was late. You shouldn’t..."

Baam!

"...have to experience this."

Baam!

"...from the beginning..."

Baam!

"It was my fault...."

It gnawed on him, finally, If he hadn’t ventured into the Dark Continent, Lara wouldn’t have followed. If he hadn’t delved deeper, she wouldn’t have reached the third realm. Every stupid decision he’d made led her here—to this nightmare.

"It’s... my... fault," he choked out, a bit of tear drop welling up in his eyes.

Lara sat frozen, staring at him in shock. This moment—this trauma—was different from what she remembered. Back then, her brother had been cold, indifferent. No rage, no fury, no savior. Just silence. And yet here he was now, consumed by raw emotion for her sake.

"...brother?" she whispered tentatively, her voice trembling.

Atlas froze mid-punch, turning slowly to face her. Her hands tugged gently on his arm, hope flickering in her wide eyes.

"Brother... is that really you?!" she called, clinging to him desperately.

Atlas pulled her into his arms, hugging her fiercely despite the blood staining his hands. "Yes... it’s your brother. I’m here now. It’s okay."

Lara felt it—the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth emanating from his body. Not the fading, hollow warmth she’d imagined before, but something genuine. How long had it been since she’d felt safe? How long had she suffered alone, drowning in despair? But no longer. This was enough. Her brother was enough.

She wept uncontrollably, burying her face in his chest—not tears of despair, but of joy, of relief. This wasn’t a dream or illusion anymore. It was real. He had come to save her. From hell, from madness, from herself.

’...thank you, brother... thank you so much,’ she thought, basking in his embrace.

Atlas said nothing, holding her tightly. Words weren’t needed. In the midst of the chaos raging outside, none of that mattered. All that mattered was her. She was safe now. That was all that counted.

[Dracula has awakened] - Atlas

[Dracula has awakened] - Lara