My Family in the Novel?

"It's a gift from someone special, but unfortunately, I have no knowledge regarding its whereabouts"

Elena explained with a graceful smile.

The moment Elena's words hung in the air, all eyes in the room turned to me.

I felt a sudden surge of panic and looked around immediately to make sure there were no other students nearby who heard her.

Did she get too excited? I shot a quick look at Elena, attempting to convey the urgency to stabilize the situation.

However, instead of showing any sign of concern, she just smiled even more at me.

It became apparent that this woman wasn't interested in subtlety or discretion.

She seemed determined to throw me under the bus.

I knew Elena wasn't the type to hide her feelings, but she might as well have suggested burning me at the stake at this point.

While I was relieved that only those in our immediate vicinity heard Elena's implications, the gravity of the situation dawned on me.

If word spread among the student body, the Holy Knights, Templars, and every religious faction would likely be on a quest to hunt me down.

The saintess was revered as something pure and untouchable, and any deviation from that image would be met with fierce opposition.

Sure, I could potentially resolve such issues by showcasing my authority and the Sword of Light, demonstrating the legitimacy of our relationship.

However, deploying such power in front of them would not only reveal my true identity but also jeopardize the intricate plan my aunt had set in motion.

The world was heading toward chaos, but that was still a few years into the future. To successfully execute this intricate play, we needed to perfect the first act.

Jumping straight into the climax wouldn't work; there had to be a build-up. The upcoming dungeon exploration exams presented the ideal stage for the opening act.

The impending chaos and destruction loomed on the horizon, and the fate of most students in the upcoming dungeon exploration exams seemed grim.

'Most of them would probably die'

However, my indifference toward their survival was overshadowed by the impending arrival of my mother, heralding the end of this world.

In the grand scheme of things, the individual fates of the students paled in comparison to the impending cataclysm.

To ensure fairness in the face of the impending apocalypse, my aunt and Loki devised a play—a narrative that would determine the world's end.

The plot unfolded with three bad ends and only one good end. It was a theatrical arrangement designed to offer a semblance of choice while steering the world inexorably toward its demise.

The demon king, a key player in this cosmic drama, seemed to have chosen the worst of the bad ends.

I couldn't help but wonder if his hatred for the gods of this world blinded him to the consequences of his actions.

The atmosphere in the cafeteria grew increasingly awkward as Elena's playful teasing lingered, drawing the attention of everyone around us.

Rather than succumbing to the discomfort, I chose to disregard her banter for the time being, opting to settle the score later. Reflecting on it, it had been quite a while since we had shared a moment together.

"Mhm?" her voice broke.

"Is something wrong senior?"

"It's nothing haha"

She said as an excuse as my hand discreetly found its way to Elena's thigh beneath the table.

She momentarily jolted as I pinched her soft thighs, her silvery white hair gracefully swaying as her sky-blue eyes betrayed a subtle quiver.

Despite my mischief, she bravely maintained her smile, engaging in conversation with Tristan, Alex, and Euphemia seated in front of us.

Euphemia, sensing something amiss, decided to introduce herself to Elena with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"By the way, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Euphemia Dunhaven. It's nice to meet you, senior, or should I say saintess?"

Elena responded warmly, "Nice to meet you, Sister Euphemia. I'm Elena Tellarum. Please just call me senior Elena or Elena if you would like.

"Ahm!" suddenly exclaimed and covered her mouth in embarrassment.

"... I hope we could become good friends."

"Sure, Elena..." replied Euphemia, her voice retaining a slight skepticism as she scrutinized Elena's peculiar reaction. Unbeknownst to them, Elena was managing to conceal the discomfort caused by my touch and slight pinches with admirable composure. The trio, including Euphemia, found her response suspicious, yet they remained oblivious to the unexpected under-the-table interaction.

Elena glanced at me with slightly furrowed brows, 'did I pinch too much?

I stopped pinching her thigh as I noticed the slight tears in her eyes, it seems she got my message.

'Why was she so playful today?'

She knows for a fact our relationship right now can't go in public, or did she notice I was the hero that's why she doesn't care?

"May I take your orders please?" just in time the golem arrived to somehow diffuse the slightly heavy atmosphere.

With the arrival of the golem taking orders, the focus shifted from the awkward situation to the practical matter of choosing dishes.

As everyone placed their orders, Elena continued to act close to me despite the suspicious glares from the others.

"Ian can I have what you're having?"

"Haha….. sure…"

The atmosphere returned to a semblance of normalcy, but Tristan's face betrayed a sense of restlessness and worry.

As the tension lingered, I couldn't help but wonder about Tristan's unusual demeanor.

'Was there something on his mind?'

Or was it just the general unease of the situation? The impending dungeon exploration exams weighed heavily on everyone's minds, and perhaps Tristan's concerns were related to that. I decided to observe him closely, trying to decipher the subtle signs of unease on his face.

Tristan's eyes bore into Elena and me with a mixture of concern and visible distress. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had transpired between them. As I glanced back at Tristan, the troubled expression on his face intensified, and it seemed like the weight of some unresolved issue burdened him.

The strained atmosphere between Tristan and Elena began to gnaw at me, sparking a surge of irritation.

'The way he's looking at Elena right now, really annoys me'

'I better ask Elena later'

'Or maybe I should ask sis now?'

Considering she's currently hiding inside Elena's shadow.

I'm pretty sure she knows of the situation if there was any to begin with.

'Sis!'

''Sis!!'

'Sis!!!?'

But no telepathic response came back.

Why is she ignoring me?

Is she that upset with me giving Elena a wedding ring?

I thought she gave her blessing already when I decided to make her and the other girls my future wives?

…..

Ignoring my sisters' sudden absence for now.

I Contemplated the unfolding situation; I weighed the options on whether or not to disclose Louise's circumstances to the group or not.

Elena, with her keen perception, likely would sense the situation and understand the context of the matter and would probably wait for my signal to play along with my charade.

Euphemia, on the other hand, would likely dismiss any discussion that didn't involve alchemy or potion making and recipes.

'She'd probably be more interested in me giving her a new potion recipe, than anything else'

However, Tristan and Alex posed a unique challenge.

They were the individuals I genuinely wished to inform, recognizing the potential havoc their actions could wreak in the upcoming theatrical performance.

The carefully orchestrated party dynamics were in disarray, and the carefully crafted narrative of the novel now seemed useless.

Two overpowering forces acting as variables threatened to disrupt the delicate balance of the unfolding events.

Suddenly, my pocket vibrated.

I grabbed hold of the communication crystal inside and saw the message written in the hologram under the table.

"The initial phase of the plan is a success. When should I start phase 2?"

I smiled inwardly and discreetly wrote a message to start now, then discreetly hid the communication crystal back in my pocket.

"About Louise," my words resonated through the air, a sudden revelation interrupting the tranquility of our meal. "She's alive."

The dining table became a theater of emotions as Tristan, Alex, and even the seemingly aloof Euphemia, who usually tried her hardest to ignore Louise, widened their eyes in collective surprise.

The air crackled with a newfound energy, each of my companions processing the unexpected news in their own way.

"..."

Everyone got quiet waiting for me to continue.

Elena, seated beside me, appeared to be a bit confused. Sensing her bewilderment, I subtly touched her leg below the table and gently stroked it.

At first, she seemed perplexed, but as my touch conveyed an unspoken understanding, a spark of realization illuminated her features. It was a silent exchange, a communication beyond words.

With the initial shock settling, I took on the role of the storyteller, providing the details to Tristan, Alex, and Euphemia.

…..

In the vast expanse of space, amidst the cosmic tapestry of stars and galaxies, an eerie spectacle unfolded.

Billions of wriggling black tentacles swam through seemingly endless, deep, and pitch-black oceans.

Creatures of varied forms, ranging from humanoid beings to utterly alien entities, desperately fled from the menacing embrace of these gigantic tendrils.

The scene was a chaotic ballet of fear and desperation. Foreign and alien languages echoed through the void, a cacophony of screams and pleas for help.

Each creature, regardless of its origin or nature, shared the commonality of terror as they raced to escape the clutches of the monstrous appendages.

Yet, in this otherworldly abyss, the profound darkness intensified their plight. Everything was pitch black, rendering their existence all the more pitiful.

Though their mouths moved frantically, no sound escaped their throats, creating a haunting silence that amplified the hopelessness of their situation.

As the cosmic drama unfolded, the nightmare seemed unending.

Pale hands, as spectral as the darkness itself, emerged from the void. Their grip was cold and unforgiving as they reached out to seize the pitiable creatures, dragging them down into the impenetrable depths.

The struggle for survival took on a surreal and disorienting quality.

The cosmic ocean, adorned with stars, witnessed the silent screams and futile attempts to escape.

The entities, diverse in their origins, were united by the common thread of terror, their lives swallowed by the cosmic abyss.

The void seemed to feed on their desperation, each captured soul adding to the darkness that pervaded the scene.

The tentacles, relentless in their pursuit, continued their macabre dance, snaking through the cosmic sea, claiming victims one by one.

Over the dark plains, mountains seemed to unfurl like colossal titans, dominating the landscape with their imposing presence.

Bizarre creatures, born of a nightmarish imagination, prowled the desolation.

Among them were flying entities with void-like forms, their presence casting ominous shadows on the bleak terrain.

A sand monster, adorned with eight hands, moved with an otherworldly grace, while a blood-like goo engulfed thousands of piled-up corpses, a grotesque display of macabre vitality.

In the midst of this surreal apocalypse, a burning horse galloped through the chaos, its mane a cascade of flames.

A colossal worm, towering like skyscrapers, methodically devoured a mountain with a million razor-sharp teeth, creating an unsettling symphony of destruction.

The world, once familiar, now stood at the brink of oblivion.

The very fabric of reality seemed to unravel as these aberrant creatures ran rampant, signaling an impending cataclysm.

Yet, the true embodiment of the impending apocalypse loomed above – a floating throne in the skies, carried by one-eyed bats with the faces of people grotesquely masked on their deformed visages.

Atop this ominous throne stood an ethereally beautiful woman.

Her hair, as black as the expanse of the dark space itself, occasionally sparkled like stars, reflecting the cosmic chaos below.

Her eyes resembled galaxies, deep and all-encompassing, casting an otherworldly gaze upon the unfolding devastation.

With a hand delicately rested against her cheek, she observed the pandemonium with a detached yet commanding demeanor.

Kneeling before her on the desolate ground was a doll-like figure, a creation that seemed to have emerged from the darkest corners of a horror movie.

Despite its terrifying appearance, the doll quivered in the presence of the beautiful lady on the throne.

The woman's gaze held a power that could terrify even the bravest of gods, a literal truth as she fed a pantheon of deities to her grotesque pets below.

"Mother..." The doll's voice quivered with nervousness, a fragility in its tone that echoed through the surreal atmosphere.

"Hmm, what is it, Nyarla?" The beautiful lady's response was calm, a delicate curiosity laced with an enigmatic depth.

Nyarla hesitated, uncertainty lingering in the air.

"Well, I—"

Before the doll could articulate its thoughts, it found itself cradled on the beautiful lady's leg.

Delicate fingers gently stroked its head and hair, a gesture so tender that it transcended the boundaries between the living and the lifeless.

"You seem to be more nervous than usual. What's wrong?" The lady's voice held a maternal concern, her hand now slowly making its way to cover Nyarla's eyes.

"I-I'm sorry—" Nyarla stammered, the apology almost lost in the ethereal ambiance.

The lady's hands suddenly moved and removed her beautiful porcelain left eye.

Before the porcelain eye of the beautiful lady was removed, a sense of tension hung in the air.

"…."

"....."

Nyarla felt something she hadn't experienced in millennia—a sudden jolt of pain.

Nyarla screamed but, no voice came out of her mouth.

"Shush for now, my daughter... and let me see your dreams." The lady's words resonated with a peculiar mix of authority and care, a maternal command that brooked no argument.

"Mother, I…... you said to do and accept anything that would make Adrian happy so we---" Nyarla attempted to speak, but the lady's soft command took hold.

"Sleep."

As if suspended in time, Nyarla ceased all movement.

The already lifeless body seemed more lifeless than ever.