The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 43: My son

Sixth Realm, Dark Continent

Within the endless darkness of the Sixth Realm, Atlas held Eli's hand tightly, guiding her through shadows that seemed alive with malice. Veil coiled around them like a protective serpent, its presence both comforting and suffocating. They marched forward in silence, their footsteps swallowed by the void as they approached a flickering light ahead—a beacon calling to them from within the abyss.

The shadow of a castle-like temple loomed into view at their feet, massive and foreboding. Its gates stood slightly ajar, inviting yet ominous. From the side of the structure came rhythmic snores, each exhale spewing fire that illuminated part of the giant sleeping beside it. The creature's red skin glowed faintly under the dim light, its colossal head resting on one arm while flames danced from its nostrils.

"Is that the one?" Eli whispered, her voice trembling despite her attempt to mask her fear.

Atlas nodded curtly, his jaw clenched as he stepped cautiously closer. His eyes darted between the snoring behemoth and the gates before him. "Yeah, let's move."

Eli frowned, her gaze fixed on the mountain-sized figure. "...why is it red? I thought giants looked like humans but only bigger."

"Was the giant serpent normal?" Atlas shot back dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Eli muttered, rolling her eyes.

Veil chimed in, its voice echoing eerily from the depths of their shared shadow. "...like Mother. This giant is also rare of its species—a mutant born amongst giants. It was said to be cursed—or blessed—by the Sun God himself."

Atlas snorted softly, waving off the explanation. "Yeah, maybe, maybe not. Don't get too curious. Let's just walk into the tomb-castle, grab what we need, and leave without waking Sleeping Beauty here."

But inside, Atlas knew better. He could feel the oppressive heat radiating from the giant even from this distance. Normal giants weren't this large—their size limited by the laws of energy consumption. Larger bodies required exponentially more energy to sustain themselves. And judging by the inferno blasting from the creature's nose, this titan was generating enough internal heat to power an entire city.

'This thing should've been in the Seventh Realm,' Atlas thought bitterly, biting back a curse. 'Why the fuck did it climb up here and decide to take a nap right outside our destination?'

He glanced nervously at the gates again, half-expecting the giant to stir. But miracle of miracles, nothing happened. No roar of fury, no collapsing castle walls—it simply continued to dream, oblivious to their intrusion.

{{Huh...I smell a human...no...a demon king?...}}

The sudden rumble startled Atlas, his blood running cold. Without hesitation, he yanked Eli toward the gates, pulling them shut behind him with frantic urgency.

"...damn. Let's just lay low for now, Eli. You already drained me enough with your antics—" he began, turning to face her—but stopped short when he realized she wasn't there.

"...Eli?" he called out, his voice rising in panic.

Instead of the familiar scent of jungle debris and Eli's subtle floral perfume, all he smelled was fresh air tinged with sunlight. Blinking against the brightness, Atlas found himself standing on a balcony overlooking the Berkimhum Kingdom. Below him stretched fields of green dotted with many houses, rivers shimmering under the golden sun. Wind brushed gently against his face, carrying memories long buried.

And then he saw them—his tiny hands, his small legs, clad in clothes far too modest for the warrior he had become.

"...I'm back in the kingdom?" he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone.

Confusion gripped him as he scanned the surroundings. This wasn't supposed to happen—not yet. Not until someone crossed the third realm and entered the same tomb-like castle they had just left.

"Damn it," he growled under his breath. "This illusion was triggered prematurely. Did another demon follow us? No, that can't be. Dracula's Laws are still intact until the third ark. Then who—?"

Before he could finish his thought, the gates of the castle below swung open. A battalion marched forward, banners fluttering proudly in the breeze. At their helm rode a man whose youthful vigor clashed sharply with the sickly image Atlas remembered.

"Father?" Atlas whispered, shock rippling through him.

As if summoned by his words, a hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Turning sharply, he met the warm brown eyes of a woman dressed in a humble gown. Her beauty was understated but undeniable, her curves outlined delicately beneath the fabric. Dark hair framed her face, catching the sunlight like spun gold.

"Atlas," she said softly, her voice layered with affection. "...let's walk down and welcome your father."

Atlas froze, his heart pounding wildly. He recognized her instantly—the woman who had once captured Henry's heart so completely that even illness couldn't dull her allure.

"Bela...?" Atlas murmured under his breath, his tone layered with disbelief. He remembered her now—the offshoot character design in the game, a figure whose importance had been buried beneath layers of side notes and forgotten lore.

"....that's a bit rude, son, calling your own mother by her name," she chided gently, her voice laced with mock offense but softened by affection.

"Oh...umm...sorry, Mother. Let's go. Why are we waiting?" Atlas corrected hastily, forcing himself to play along.

He sifted through memories—Atlas's past now unlocked via the 'world understanding' interface. Fragments of information flooded his mind, piecing together a story he'd never fully understood before. The game hadn't cared about these details; they were mere ornaments meant to enrich the narrative. But now, standing here as this version of Atlas, he saw them for what they truly were: fractures in the foundation of this broken family.

'Damn....' Atlas thought as they walked side by side, her hand gripping his tightly. 'Her character seems...unique.' His thoughts raced faster than his feet. 'Didn't know she was such an important character.'

Reaching the palace gates, Atlas continued to piece together the puzzle. Each step revealed another fragment, each glance at Bela added another layer of complexity. Her presence wasn't just maternal—it was magnetic, dangerous even. Like a storm wrapped in silk.

'This explains a lot...' he realized, making small talk despite the chaos brewing inside him. 'So that's why this family is so fucked up.'

He turned to look at her once more, watching her smile radiate warmth while her eyes hinted at something darker. Something ancient.

'Hmmmm...a succubus turned human, I see...interesting. Well, the writer must have been on some green shit when he wrote her character. This is some next level stuff....'

Step!

Step!

Step!

"The King has arrived!" the gatekeeper announced, his voice echoing across the courtyard.

Henry dismounted his horse, clad in weary mythril armor stained with the blood of countless battles. His mighty hammer rested against his back, its surface drenched in crimson. With a grin that seemed too practiced, too perfect, he approached them, removing the golden crown from his head. To Atlas's surprise, he placed it atop young Atlas's brow.

"Oh, it's only been a month, but you've grown, my son," Henry said joyfully, lifting him into the air. "And you, my dear—you look stunning as always." He kissed Bela lightly on the lips, his affection seemingly genuine—or perhaps masterfully faked, he didn't know.

Atlas smiled back, a mask so easy to wear it frightened him. Was Henry truly kind? Or was this act merely another layer of manipulation? Like the ring. The game hadn't delved deep enough to reveal the truth. Only side notes remained—fragments of a fractured history.

"...Father?" a small, innocent voice called out hesitantly.

Atlas spotted blue hair near the gates, finally recognizing who it belonged to. Lara. The glowing light who defeated anyone and anything in the game, saving the day with her radiant smile. Yet here she stood, diminished, almost invisible.

'The side note mentioned she started gaining recognition after Mother's party—that night she faced something traumatizing...' Atlas pondered briefly. Should he speak to her? No. This was just a memory—a shard of Atlas's past. He needed to focus on escaping, finding Eli—not wasting time in illusions.

Turning back to Bela, he felt her fingers tighten around his hand. "Atlas, I don't want you to..." she began sternly.

"....Isabella!" Henry bellowed suddenly, cutting her off.

Bela ignored him completely, leaning closer to whisper in Atlas's ear. "...what I was saying was, I don't want you loitering around that child, okay? And never go near that green witch."

Atlas tuned her out, nodding absently. His attention drifted elsewhere, his thoughts unraveling further with each passing second. Trying to think of a way to escape from this illusion of a mess he had now gone into.

"Now let's go...I have much to teach you, and you have much to learn. This dream of yours won't last long," Bela declared cryptically.

"Huh...yo...you know?" Atlas blurted, stunned. 'Isn't this all just an illusion, a part of Atlas's memory?' He thought.

Bela smirked, her expression dripping with maternal superiority. " Who do you think I am? I'm your mother."