Chapter 15: Omelettes And Lots Of Hugs

Chapter 15: Chapter 15: Omelettes And Lots Of Hugs

’I saw a dream. A dream that refused to end.’

Dragons ruled the sky in numbers beyond counting. Their wings blotted out the suns. Their roars cracked mountains.

One by one, they fell—not to foreign enemies, but to the jaws and claws of their own king.

Scales the color of molten gold tore through throats of sapphire and crimson. Rivers of divine blood fell like rain across burning continents.

Yet the king made no sound.

He simply moved.

Wherever his golden scales passed, another dragon fell.

No one challenged him.

No one fled.

It was as though every dragon in the sky already knew how the dream was supposed to end.

The king’s eyes never wavered.

Each kill was clean. Absolute.

And somehow... mournful.

Not with grief.

Not with hesitation.

But with the quiet finality of someone carrying out an ending that had already been decided long ago.

Then the slaughter stopped.

The king slowly turned his head.

Michael couldn’t see its full face.

Couldn’t see where it was looking.

Only those enormous golden eyes.

They seemed to pass through the endless battlefield, through the burning heavens, through the dream itself...

And finally, they settled on him.

Michael froze.

For the first time, the king seemed uncertain.

Its head tilted slightly.

Then, in a voice that did not sound like a voice at all, a single question echoed through the heavens.

[Who are you?]

’Argh...’

Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Seraphine’s house in the Sovereign Realm, bathing Michael in its warm glow.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. His rose-pink irises caught the morning light as he took in the unfamiliar view before him.

Almost immediately, a dull throb bloomed behind his temples.

He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead as fragments of a dream tried to surface, only to dissolve like smoke the moment he reached for them.

Within seconds, nothing remained except a cold, unsettling certainty that he had forgotten something important. Something he was never supposed to forget.

And beneath it all lingered the image of two golden eyes, watching him from the darkness.

He exhaled and let his head fall back against the couch. "Feels like I’m forgetting something really important..."

Michael took another sharp breath, then another.

Something felt wrong.

Still half-lost in the remnants of his dream, he frowned and slowly sat up. He took a few more breaths, trying to clear the strange fog in his head.

Then he noticed it.

A sharp, acrid smell.

’Huh? Is something burning?’

Michael’s expression changed.

His eyes snapped fully open as he took another breath, this time recognizing the smell immediately.

"...What the hell?"

He shot upright and looked around the living room.

Thin trails of smoke were already curling in from the direction of the kitchen, spreading through the house and quickly filling the air.

Michael’s grogginess vanished instantly.

With a few long strides, he crossed the living room and shoved the kitchen door open so hard it might have broken if it hadn’t been so sturdy.

The sight that greeted him belonged in a comedy sketch.

Seraphine Voss—the Fourth Star of the Seven Sovereigns, a woman capable of erasing Rift Demons with a gesture—stood over a smoking pan with a spatula clutched in both hands like a weapon she no longer trusted.

Her violet eyes were faintly glassy.

The "omelette" in the pan had long since abandoned any claim to the name.

It was a blackened, carbonized brick of egg, its edges curled into charcoal while the center somehow continued to smoke. A faint trail of gray rose toward the ceiling, as if the pan itself had finally surrendered.

She looked exactly like a child who had been thrown her favorite toy into a pool her parents had warned her to stay away from and was desperately trying to save it.

Unfortunately, Michael was in no mood to find the sight funny.

He had just woken up to a house full of smoke.

For all he knew, the entire kitchen could have gone up in flames while he was sleeping.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he yelled as he rushed into the room.

Seraphine spun toward him, the spatula still raised. Her voice came out small and defensive. "I don’t know what happened. It just... started burning."

"Started burning?!" Michael stared at the smoking pan in disbelief. "You nearly set the damn kitchen on fire!"

He crossed the kitchen in two strides, snatched the spatula from her, and flipped the ruined mass.

He tried seasoning it.

He tried lowering the heat.

He even tried scraping off the worst of the carbon.

Nothing helped.

The thing remained a blackened, vaguely egg-shaped failure.

Michael killed the flame and turned toward her, his frustration still written all over his face.

"Why did you keep cooking it after it started burning?! Do you want to burn the damn house down?!"

His voice was sharper now. "See... I get that you’re strong and something like this probably wouldn’t hurt you, but I’m not the same! I was asleep in the next room! If that fire had gotten worse, I wouldn’t have even known until it was too late!"

Seraphine’s gaze dropped.

She gripped the hem of the apron she was wearing, her fingers twisting the fabric.

"...I—I just saw how tired you looked this morning and only wanted to make you something to eat."

Michael’s anger stalled.

"Huh?"

Only then did he actually look at her.

She was dressed in a soft, white gown, loose enough to be comfortable yet fitted enough to still show the mature lines of her figure.

The thin fabric clung to the heavy swell of her huge, soft breasts, and hugged the thick, juicy curve of her fat ass whenever she shifted her weight.

At five-foot-six, she looked small beside him, perhaps because she seemed less imposing than before, or perhaps simply because of what she was wearing, but her figure now looked like pure MILF perfection: soft and voluptuous, yet firm and toned from years of training.

She looked disheveled, domestic, and, in that moment, painfully beautiful. The shy way she stood there, her shoulders slightly drawn in, made something in his chest tighten.

Michael glanced at the blackened omelette.

It looked absolutely fucking terrible.

There was no saving it. He knew that much.

Then he looked back at Seraphine.

She stood there with her head slightly lowered, fingers nervously gripping the edge of her apron. Her nervous breaths came a little faster than usual.

She had tried to cook for him.

After seeing how tired he looked, she had actually gone into the kitchen and tried to make him breakfast.

He couldn’t bring himself to make her feel bad about it.

Michael clenched his jaw, then reached for a fork.

Seraphine’s head lifted, her eyes widening as he cut off a large piece of the blackened omelette and put it into his mouth.

He chewed with visible effort.

Very visible effort.

The taste was horrifying.

But he forced himself to swallow it anyway.

Then he looked at her and managed a small smile.

"It’s good," he said.

His smile grew a little warmer.

"Really good."

For a second, she simply stared at him.

Then a warm, almost mischievous smile spread across her face.

She raised one hand and rested it against his cheek, her eyes narrowing playfully.

"You like Mommy’s cooking, don’t you?" she asked, clearly enjoying his reaction. "Should I make another one?"

Michael let out an awkward laugh. "No. I’ll cook for you this time."

Seraphine puffed out her cheeks and stepped back, placing her hands on her hips. The motion made her soft, heavy breasts jiggle lightly under the thin fabric, the outline of her nipples faintly visible. "That’s not very nice."

There was a playful glint in her violet eyes now. "A good boy should listen to his mommy. Do you understand?"

Michael narrowed his eyes. ’What has gotten into her?’

He glanced above her head out of habit, but the ’Current Emotion’ panel refused to appear.

Apparently, it still only showed itself whenever it felt like it.

Meanwhile, Seraphine’s smile only grew wider.

She was clearly enjoying this far too much.

Michael sighed, then reached out and rested a hand on top of her head, giving her a few light pats.

Only afterward did the absurdity of what he was doing hit him.

He was casually petting one of the strongest beings in the First Heaven—someone who could erase his entire bloodline without effort.

His hand froze.

’... Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’

He almost yanked it away, ready to get on his knees and apologize, when he looked down.

Seraphine wasn’t glaring at him. Hell, she wasn’t even complaining.

Her eyes were half-lidded, a small, content smile resting on her lips, while one foot slowly drew circles against the floor.

Michael blinked. ’She’s... actually enjoying this?’

Before he could process that, she tilted her head up at him, still beneath his hand.

"Don’t you think it’s about time I got my reward for cooking?"

Michael’s heart, which had already been beating far too quickly, practically slammed against his ribs.

"Reward?"

Seraphine’s smile widened.

She stepped closer, placing both hands flat against his chest. The soft press of her breasts settled against him as she rose onto her toes, her warmth molding naturally to his taller frame.

Then she pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his cheek, her lips warm and slightly parted, the faint brush of her breath hot against his skin.

His entire body stiffened.

Heat rushed straight to his face, and lower. ’Holy shit! The Dean just kissed me!’

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away, leaving a lingering warmth against his chest.

Seraphine turned and walked toward the doorway as though she hadn’t just short-circuited his brain. With every step, the sway of her hips made the thin fabric of her pants shift against her curves, and Michael’s mouth went dry.

At the threshold, she glanced back and winked. "Cook quickly, or Mommy won’t give you your own reward."

Michael’s face burned even hotter. His pulse hammered loudly enough that he could hear it in his ears. He braced one hand against the kitchen island while the other pressed against his chest.

"Cute."

’She is so goddamn cute.’

He immediately tried to reject the thought.

’No. No. That’s a hundred-year-old woman. She cannot be this cute.’

His knees gave out, and he slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his back against the counter, staring blankly at the ceiling. A helpless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

’Haha... what the hell has gotten into her, acting all wifey first thing in the morning?’

He sat there for a few seconds, letting his thoughts settle.

Then something clicked.

The mission.

Michael’s eyes widened slightly as yesterday’s events came rushing back to him. The mission he’d assigned Seraphine before integrating the Dragon Gene Rune.

’Wait...’

’Did she actually complete it? So fast?’

His embarrassment was immediately replaced by curiosity.

He quickly called up the System and checked the completed missions section.

And, lo and behold, there it was.

[Mission Complete]

[Earned Growth Points +1.0000]

Michael’s eyes went wide.

"A full point!"

Even though he was staring directly at the notification, he still couldn’t quite believe it.

According to the System, earning a full Growth Point required either completing several high-tier missions or completing a single mission that cost the target a significant amount of effort.

That meant whatever Seraphine had said while he was unconscious had cost her something real.

And he had slept through the entire thing.

Michael groaned and tugged at his bangs. "Idiot. How do you miss something that important?"

He let his hands fall, then suddenly chuckled and punched the air twice.

"Whatever." He sighed, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Who cares about the cutscene when the goal is wide open now?"

He pushed himself to his feet, rolled his sleeves higher, and surveyed the remaining ingredients.

"Time to cook my wifey something worth a million loves."

Within minutes, the kitchen filled with proper smells—savory, layered, and inviting.

Michael worked with quiet focus, moving naturally between the ingredients as the meal slowly came together. The more he cooked, the richer the aroma became, spreading through the kitchen and drifting toward the doorway.

Seraphine had initially only intended to watch.

But the smell made it difficult to stay away.

She stepped closer, her eyes following his movements as he worked. There was something strangely comforting about the scene. After everything she had secretly done while he was sleeping, seeing him willingly standing in her kitchen, casually cooking for her, stirred a warmth in her chest.

A faint smile appeared on her lips. ’So this is what it feels like...’

Her gaze lingered on him: the broad shoulders, the snow-white hair falling across his sharp features, the rose-pink eyes focused completely on the pan.

The sight made her smile grow a little wider.

When she was certain he wasn’t handling anything dangerous, she quietly erased the last traces of her presence and stepped fully into the kitchen.

Michael didn’t notice until a soft warmth pressed against his back as Seraphine slipped her arms around his waist, drawing herself close.

A second later, her voice came softly beside his ear, carrying a playful warmth. "This is your reward for cooking something that smells so good."

She paused for a moment before adding teasingly, "Don’t worry. You can enjoy it for as long as you like."

Michael smiled without turning and simply continued working. Her sudden embrace made it surprisingly difficult to keep his attention on the pan.

He was nearly finished when the System suddenly chimed, bright and clear.

[Congratulations]

[Seraphine Voss Affection has reached 80]

[You have received 3 Free Gacha Spins]

Michael’s eyes widened.

’Freebies!’

’System Daddy is finally handing out freebies!’