My Wife is a Hidden Big Shot

The next morning.

An intoxicating aroma wafted in from outside the bedroom.

It was enough to make anyone’s stomach rumble with hunger.

"Dad, what smells so good?"

Graham Morgan scratched his messy hair, stumbling downstairs in a daze.

He yawned as he walked. He’d had a bit too much to drink yesterday, and now he was suffering the aftereffects. His legs felt weak.

"Your dad’s still asleep..."

Aurora Sinclair poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, startling Graham Morgan.

He’d drunk so much he’d had a memory lapse, forgetting that his superhuman mom was back.

Her face, which hadn’t changed at all, made her look even younger than him.

Graham Morgan called out to her awkwardly, then peeked into the kitchen like a child, trying to see what she was doing.

He saw his mom, wearing his dad’s apron, skillfully slicing fish on a cutting board with a cleaver.

The aroma was coming from a clay pot simmering beside her.

He had been so focused on drinking yesterday that he’d barely touched his food. Now he was truly famished, and his stomach GROWLED loudly.

Graham Morgan couldn’t stand it any longer. He walked right in and asked, "Mom, can I have some of this?"

Aurora Sinclair glanced at him. "If you want some, go ahead."

"Then I won’t be polite..."

Graham Morgan immediately lifted the lid. Seeing the milky-white broth inside, he eagerly ladled a large bowl for himself. It was full of ingredients—all of them highly restorative.

"Whoa, who needs their body restored? Don’t tell me it’s Dad?"

Aurora Sinclair shot him another look. "Don’t drink too much."

"Don’t worry, Mom. I left more than half the pot for Dad."

"You can only have half a bowl."

"It’s fine, I need a little restoring myself."

"..."

When Alvin Morgan came downstairs, he saw his wife rolling up pieces of tissue for their eldest son.

In the trash can beside them were several blood-stained wads of tissue.

"The soup was too potent?"

Graham Morgan looked like he wanted to cry but had no tears. The soup his mom had made was just too restorative; his nose started bleeding right after he finished it...

Aurora Sinclair poured him two glasses of cold water before bringing out another bowl of the restorative soup from the kitchen.

The moment Alvin Morgan saw the soup, he understood. He shot a glance at his eldest son, who had snuck a taste.

"Go take a bowl to your grandfather."

"..."

The Morgan Family had always eaten their meals in silence, with almost no conversation.

Even the youngest child followed this rule.

They ate according to etiquette, making no noise.

But at breakfast today, Alvin Morgan broke with tradition and announced to his many children, "The day after tomorrow, we’re going on a trip."

Graham Morgan choked, coughing violently. "COUGH, COUGH, COUGH... A trip where?"

Alvin Morgan distastefully slid Aurora Sinclair’s bowl aside. "Cough over there!"

"Dad, you’re not planning to go to The Holy Mountain with Mom, are you?" Jason Morgan was the first to ask.

He was currently the most powerful member of the family and had already taken a position in The Martial Alliance, so he knew more about The Holy Mountain than the others.

Alvin Morgan glanced at him and said flatly, "It’s a trip. After the meal, come to my study."

The three Morgan siblings’ expressions tightened.

Usually, when their dad wanted to talk in the study, it was about something important.

The three siblings finished their breakfast with heavy hearts and followed Alvin Morgan to the study.

He didn’t get straight to the point. Instead, he waited for Aurora Sinclair to bring in a pot of tea and sit down beside him before addressing the three of them.

"There are some things I can’t conveniently tell you, but I assume you’ve all heard a few things about The Holy Mountain. We are, indeed, going to The Holy Mountain."

"Why are you going to The Holy Mountain again?" Graham Morgan’s expression turned grim.

Alvin Morgan glanced at him but didn’t say anything more.

He spoke to his wrist. "Ditto, delegate Level One authority for Destruction to Graham Morgan, designation 002."

"Dad..." Graham Morgan’s face fell.

He had thought his superhuman mom wouldn’t be leaving again after coming back this time. He never expected she would be taking his dad with her.

’What on earth are those two going to do?’

Alvin Morgan lifted his teacup, blew on the hot steam, took a small sip, and called out softly, "Ditto."

"Present, Master."

"Delegate Level One authority for [Destruction] to Graham Morgan, designation 002."

"Understood, Master."

This command made all three people in the room pale. Graham Morgan, in particular, was so shocked he shot to his feet, crying out in disbelief, "Dad... what are you doing?"

[Destruction] was the most powerful weapon his father had ever developed. Once activated, it could not be canceled, and its energy output was strong enough to raze the entire Continent of Boreas to the ground.

It was said to be hundreds of times more powerful than the weapon his father had launched for his mother all those years ago.

"We don’t know when we’ll be back from this trip to The Holy Mountain. If we don’t return, and a new Martial God appears in the Martial World and prepares to start a world war, you are to activate [Destruction]."

"Dad..."

"Every era of peace is bought with the flesh and blood of countless bodies. Because it is hard-won, it must be cherished all the more. Entrusting this to you is a responsibility and a duty. I hope that you and your successors will use it with caution."

Graham Morgan’s gaze grew much heavier...

***

「It was early spring, a time of new growth.」

Beneath the vast white snow, specks of green poked through, symbolizing the vitality of all living things.

Three figures stood before a mysterious stone monument.

Two entered, while one stood guard by the monument.

As the last person stepped through, the stone monument suddenly vanished.

"Aurora—"

Alvin Morgan’s expression changed in an instant. He reached out to grab her, but his hand met only empty air.

Meanwhile, after a blinding flash of white light, Aurora Sinclair found herself standing in a vacant room. The space was completely empty; there was no one around, not even Hector Lennox.

Accompanied by a "DING—"

A familiar voice suddenly echoed through the room:

"Welcome back, Son of God! This is the Trial Dimension of the Son of God. Do you wish to enter The Trial Dimension?"

A door appeared on the wall in front of Aurora Sinclair. On it were written the three words: [The Trial Dimension].

She didn’t dare approach, asking instead, "Who are you? Where did the man who entered before me go?"

"I am the Space Administrator. The man who entered before you has already gone into [The Trial Dimension]."

Aurora Sinclair’s heart tightened. She asked cautiously, "Did he encounter you?"

"No. Only the Son of God can enter this place."

Aurora Sinclair pondered for a moment, then held up her hand and asked the room, "What is this ring?"

"The Ring of Divine Son’s Training."

Aurora Sinclair asked again, "What is the relationship between the ring and this place?"

The voice gave the answer that Alvin Morgan had once guessed: "The ring is the medium that opens the dimension."

A thought stirred in Aurora Sinclair’s mind. "Does this place belong to me now?"

"It does. You are the master of this place."

Aurora Sinclair’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Then can I control The Trial Dimension?"

"You can. At the Quasi-God Level, you can control the access permissions for The Trial Dimension."

Aurora Sinclair’s eyes flew open in pleasant surprise. "Does that mean the four Martial Gods can no longer enter and exit as they please?"

"That is correct. Apart from the bound Son of God, no other living being can freely enter or exit this place. Son of God, do you wish to change the access permissions?"

A screen suddenly appeared in front of Aurora Sinclair, listing information on all personnel currently inside the dimension. There were already a hundred people, and most of them were descendants of the four Martial Gods.

For each living person, their information was followed by their entry and exit permissions. Most were set to ’unrestricted access’.

Only the three Martial Gods—Miss Harrow, the Lowell Clan, and Yamada—had no permission to exit.

Aurora Sinclair asked in confusion, "Why don’t those three have permission to exit?"