NTR: Stealing wives in Another World
Chapter 136: Daughter of tides

Chapter 136: Daughter of tides

Allen’s lungs burned with every shallow breath. Blood seeped from open wounds, pooling beneath him, thick and warm. His vision blurred again—shadows twisting at the edges. Every pulse of his heart felt like a hammer striking rusted metal.

He tried to speak. Maybe make a joke, something to break the tension. "What a spa day," or "Is this part of the tour?" But his tongue was too heavy. His lips barely moved. All that came out was a soft, wet groan.

The lizardmen didn’t care.

They whipped him again. A brutal crack of thorny vines lashed across his chest, reopening cuts. Blood sprayed, joining the dark stains already soaking the dirt.

Just a few feet away, Lunari giggled in her little pond—completely unaware.

She swirled in circles, splashing playfully with her tail, singing a nonsense tune to herself as though nothing at all was wrong. Her silver hair fanned around her like a halo, her eyes glassy and far off.

Then she noticed him.

"Are you playing too?" she asked cheerfully, head tilting. "You’re so red! Is that part of the game?"

Allen smiled weakly, the curve of his lips barely visible beneath the blood.

"Yeah..." he mumbled. "Playing..."

The world spun again. A pull at the back of his mind. His body slumped, consciousness beginning to fade.

But then—

Stillness.

Lunari stopped splashing. Her eyes twitched. The glaze over them cracked, replaced by something sharp. Focused.

"...Allen?"

The voice wasn’t dreamy or distant this time. It was clear. Anchored.

"No..." one of the smaller ones muttered. "She wasn’t like that before. She was brain-dead. He must’ve done something!"

Another growled, "She was just a broken mermaid. He stole her from the shores—tried to use her like all humans do."

"Lady Lunari, that man is a human!" one of them shouted. "He took you from your home! We were trying to protect you—!"

"You think you know me?" Lunari’s voice rang out with authority now, cold and biting. "I am Lunari of the Coral tribe. Daughter of the Tides. And he... is mine."

The air thickened with her words, the water around her beginning to shimmer. Even the ground trembled under her voice.

The lizardmen hesitated. Their leader—towering and scarred, eyes slitted and golden—glanced at his warriors, unsure.

"But... you were—"

"I was poisoned. Twisted by something far older than any of you know. And he..." Her tail coiled around her. "He never let go of me. Even when I didn’t remember him."

She moved toward Allen, the crowd parting for her like she radiated heat. She knelt beside him, hands trembling as she took in the mangled mess they’d turned him into.

"No... Allen..." Her voice cracked.

He didn’t respond.

Her hand hovered over his cheek—hesitant—then pressed against his jaw.

He was cold.

Her tears came suddenly, splashing onto his blood-streaked skin.

"No, no, please..."

She bit her palm. Blood welled up, glowing faintly with a mystical hue. She placed her bleeding hand to his lips.

"Drink. You have to drink..."

But his body remained limp.

She fumbled for the thin chain around her neck—ripping it off with shaking fingers. A pearl, small and faintly glowing, dangled at the end. She plucked it free and placed it in his mouth.

"Swallow it... please..."

She tilted his head gently, coaxing his throat. Her blood mixed with the pearl’s magic, and for a moment... nothing.

Then—

A breath.

A weak, gasping pull of air. His body twitched. His wounds didn’t close, but they stopped bleeding. His lips gained a trace of color. He was alive. Barely, but alive.

Lunari cradled him against her, her song now soft and broken.

The lizardmen stood in stunned silence, watching as the "broken mermaid" they had dismissed moments ago now stood radiant, powerful, and very much not under their control.

She didn’t look at them.

Didn’t have to.

The message was clear:

This man was hers.

And she would not let him go.

Lunari cradled Allen’s battered form against her, her hand trembling where it brushed through his blood-matted hair. The warmth of her magic still lingered in his chest, but it was faint — a flicker against the tide of darkness threatening to pull them both under.

Her head suddenly jerked up.

Something was wrong.

The back of her mind began to tremble, a soft ringing growing louder in her ears. Her chest ached—not from grief, but from a pressure building behind her eyes, threatening to drown her thoughts again.

She could feel her clarity slipping.

No—not yet. Not again.

She looked at the surrounding lizardmen. Her voice was calm, solemn, and full of ancient power, like a priestess giving a final prayer before the storm.

"As Lunari of the Coral Tribe..." she said, standing tall though her hands shook. "Daughter of the Tides..."

The crowd froze.

Their eyes widened—recognition dawning like a lightning strike through stormclouds.

"...I ask you," she continued, raising one trembling hand toward the sky, "in the name of the Great Guardian of Waves... Crytona... Watch over me and this human. He is not like the ones you remember. Once he wakes, you’ll see it too."

The lizardmen exchanged glances—some unsure, others clearly shaken. The name Crytona stirred something old in them. Reverence. Fear.

"Until then..." Lunari whispered, her voice faltering, "please take care of us. Of him... and of me."

And just like that—her clarity shattered.

Her eyes blinked rapidly, the glow fading from her pupils.

"Huh?" she mumbled, glancing around in a daze. "Was I saying something just now?"

She looked down and gasped in surprise. "Ohh, you’re hurt, mister!" she said cheerfully, completely forgetting that the same person she cradled was Allen. "Did you trip on a rock? Silly! You should be more careful."

She giggled, pressing her cheek against his blood-streaked face like she was cuddling a plush toy.

The lizardmen stared in stunned silence.

Even their leader seemed at a loss.

"...She really was cursed," one muttered. "That wasn’t an act."

Another crossed his arms. "And if what she said is true... we owe it to Crytona to watch over them."

"...He better wake up fast," the leader muttered, eyes narrowing at Allen’s unconscious form. "Because if he’s lying... we’ll tear his spine out."

But for now, they relented.

They did as the Daughter of the Tides had asked—gathering herbs, wrapping Allen’s wounds, and placing him in a shaded den with Lunari curled beside him like a sleepy eel.

And above them all, the waves whispered the name Crytona through the coral-crusted rocks, carrying Lunari’s plea across the ocean floor.

The murky gloom of the underwater den had softened with time. The lizardmen, once seething with hatred and suspicion, now moved with quiet purpose. It wasn’t trust—no, that would take much more—but it was something.

Allen’s unconscious body had been moved from the blood-soaked ground to a bed woven with medicinal sea plants, layered with thick mats of soft kelp and algae threaded with healing herbs. The mixture gave off a faint earthy scent, a cool balm to his fevered skin. His wounds, once raw and open, were now wrapped with paste made from crushed coral moss and deep-sea clover. Slowly, the angry red gashes on his back began to knit shut. The swelling around his face faded. Color crept back into his lips.

The humans would’ve called it primitive medicine. But it worked—quietly, steadily, and without question.

Not far from him, a shallow pool had been dug in the floor of the den. Warmed with bioluminescent stones and filtered by sea grasses, it shimmered like a gentle dream.

That was where Lunari floated.

She was back to being her usual self—the giggling, clueless mermaid, spinning in circles and making bubbles with her mouth. Her long hair floated around her like seaweed, and she flopped around like a lazy dolphin who’d had too much sun.

"Oooh~ sparkly lights!" she cooed, paddling over to a glowstone and poking it with her forehead. "I bet it tastes like rainbow!"

A few lizardmen watched her with thinly veiled disbelief. One younger female whispered, "Is that... really the Daughter of the Tides?"

"She spoke Crytona’s name," the elder beside her grunted. "Even if she looks like she’s got sea sponges for brains now."

"She was... different, for a moment," another murmured. "Wise. Noble. Like a priestess. That voice—didn’t feel like her at all."

"I heard the poison twists the mind," one of the older warriors added. "They say only death can cure it. Maybe she’s fighting it, but not strong enough to win."

The lizardmen had been given their orders. And despite their anger, they obeyed the last clear words spoken by the Daughter of the Tides.

So they watched her.

Tended to her.

Kept her water clean and her space warm.

A few of the younger lizardlings had even started playing near the edge of her pool, tossing shells or blowing bubbles back at her when she giggled. They weren’t sure if she understood them. But her laughter was strangely... calming. Like a tide that rolled away pain and worry, if only for a moment.

Allen, meanwhile, groaned softly in his sleep.

His body twitched—just slightly—and his fingers clenched the seaweed mat beneath him. The color had returned to his cheeks, and his breath was no longer shallow and ragged. The worst of the internal bleeding had been stanched by Lunari’s earlier gift: her blood and the mysterious pearl. Whatever that pearl was, it shimmered faintly through his skin now, like a tiny lantern trying to light the path back to consciousness.

One of the elder lizardmen sat cross-legged nearby, arms folded, watching the human.

"He’s waking," the old one said quietly.

"Should we bind him again?" a younger male asked.

"No," the elder said after a long pause. "If he’s what she claimed he is... if this human is different... we’ll know soon enough."

"...And if not?"

The elder looked toward the rack where their bone-forged spears hung.

"Then he dies like the rest."

They all glanced toward the pool, where Lunari had somehow flipped onto her back and was trying to balance a small crab on her nose.

"Wheee~! Look, Mister Pinchy! You’re flying!"

The crab promptly fell into the water and scuttled off. She gasped like it was the most tragic thing in the world, then got distracted by her own fingers and started humming.

A few of the lizardmen looked away, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

But no one touched her.

Not after the name Crytona had been spoken.

Not after the solemn vow she gave with the last ounce of her clarity.

She had trusted the human.

So—for now—they would too.

Allen stirred again, brow furrowed. His mouth parted, trying to form a word. A name.

"Lunari..."

And though she was back to giggling, she suddenly blinked at the sound. For a fraction of a second—so quick no one could be sure—it looked like she remembered him.