Preparation for Bloodshed

Daemon and Nyxtriel walked steadily down the corridor.

Today would be the day the palace drowned in blood—the Duke was coming.

Yet Daemon felt no fear. Only urgency.

He was still at Seventh Star—a pitiful level compared to the monsters of this kingdom.

Without Nyxtriel at his side, he would be nothing more than prey.

If only he had time to go out and hunt a boss monster, claim its spiritual stone, and ascend faster. But the palace was a cage now. He couldn't leave without risking everything.

He glanced at Nyxtriel, thinking.

Maybe she could hunt for him?

But even then—the surrounding lands had been stripped clean. The ogres were already wiped out. No real threats remained nearby.

Nyxtriel tilted her head at him. "Is something troubling you, my lord?"

Daemon gave a slight shake of his head, brushing it off.

She smiled softly. "If it is, you need only ask. I can comfort you... like a mother soothes her child."

The maids and ladies-in-waiting trailing them giggled behind their hands.

Daemon didn't smile.

That word—child—tugged something dark inside him. His mind flashed, unbidden, to the maid Sandra.To the pure, unborn life he'd stolen when he drained her.

If infants and young life held purer cores... then perhaps he didn't need to risk leaving the palace at all.

He slowed his steps, pulled Nyxtriel closer, and whispered:

"I have a mission for you. While I attend to the king, you will gather all the children. Bring them to my chambers. Their mothers too, if needed."

Nyxtriel gave no visible reaction beyond a slight nod.

Without hesitation, she dissolved into mist, vanishing from sight.

The maids gasped in shock.

"Where did she go?" one of them asked in awe.

Daemon smiled faintly. "She went to fetch something for me."

"You could've sent us, Your Highness," another offered eagerly.

He waved a hand dismissively.

"The item is... special."

The maids blushed and giggled among themselves, misinterpreting his vague words.

Daemon paid them no mind.

They had arrived.

Two royal guards bowed low and pushed open the heavy doors to the king's private office.

Daemon stepped inside, where Robert and the butler waited stiffly beside a disheveled King Aleric.

The king looked up—and for the first time in Daemon's life—he looked like a man losing a battle he didn't even know how to fight.

Daemon bowed respectfully.

"Greetings, Your Majesty."

King Velrick offered a strained smile. "Ah, Daemon. It's good to see you well. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Daemon replied calmly. "Thanks to you—and to this new heart you gave me. It's strong. Full of mana."

The king chuckled lightly. "With that much mana, have you considered studying magic? Many Aura Masters who awaken mana through a dragon's heart turn into formidable hybrids."

Daemon shook his head.

"I'd rather perfect my technique first. Aura is my path. But... if the opportunity comes, I won't turn my back on magic either."

"Greedy boy," the king said, amused. "I'll have someone bring you a tome or two. It never hurts to diversify your strength."

Daemon offered a faint smile, but his eyes remained cool.

He glanced around the room—the atmosphere was too stiff and too heavy.

He cut straight to the point.

"Your Majesty," Daemon said evenly, "surely you didn't summon me just to ask about my health?"

The king paused, lips tightening.

"You wound me," he said, half-laughing. "Is it so strange to show concern?"

"You and I both know," Daemon said softly, "there's no time for concern in a war. You want to know what the Duke said."

Velrick's facade dropped.

He nodded once. "Correct."

Daemon folded his arms behind his back, voice steady.

"The Duke came with two others—a fellow Duke and a Marquis. They attempted to assassinate me. They failed."

The king's aura flared slightly, but he kept still.

"Afterward," Daemon continued, "Elias spoke. His daughter—your wife, Queen Angela—called to me. She revealed something."

The temperature in the room dropped.

"She claimed you are hiding your son," Daemon said calmly. "And that you fed him a fragment. A dangerous one."

King Velrick's killing intent surged, sharp as a blade.

The very air seemed to tremble.

Daemon suppressed a shiver, feeling the pressure against his skin.Even with the dragon heart stabilizing his core, the king's fury was no joke.

"That wretched woman," Velrick growled under his breath. "She dares... betray me?"

He gripped the armrest of his throne so hard the wood groaned under his fingers.

Daemon stood firm. Silent. Waiting.

Finally, the king exhaled and slumped back into his chair, defeated.

"You don't believe her, do you?" Velrick asked quietly, eyes searching Daemon's face.

"I'm not sure," Daemon said with measured honesty. "I haven't seen proof. Yet."

The king closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them, the fire dimmed.

"You deserve the truth," Velrick said. "I did... feed my son the fragment. I had no choice."

Daemon tilted his head slightly, feigning confusion. "And what became of him?"

The king hesitated, then whispered the word:

"A demon."

The room was dead silent.

Daemon's expression remained composed, but his mind raced.

So it's true. A fragment can turn a human completely...

"I'd like to see him," Daemon said softly. "If you'll allow it."

Velrick exchanged glances with Robert and the butler.Both men looked pale and uneasy.

Finally, the king nodded, slow and heavy.

"I will allow it," he said. "But be warned, Daemon... what you find may not be something you can unsee."

Daemon smiled politely.

"I look forward to it."

The king rose slowly from his throne, straightening his coat with a stiff, mechanical movement.

"Come," he said. His voice was flat, tired. "I'll show you."

Daemon bowed his head slightly and followed. Robert and the butler trailed behind in heavy silence.

They made their way through the long palace corridors, the polished floors echoing under their boots. Daemon kept a few steps behind the king, his crimson eyes sharp, reading every twitch in the man's shoulders.

As they walked, the king spoke without turning back.

"After this," he said, "I'll be leaving the palace. There are important... negotiations I must attend to."

Daemon arched a brow. "Negotiations? At the casino?"

The king chuckled dryly, almost bitterly. "You know everything, don't you?"

"Toni told me before," Daemon said casually. "Before he lost his mouth ."

The king didn't question it. "I'm looking for a cure," he said. "Anything. Anyone. The casino draws merchants, healers, criminals... sometimes even miracles."

Daemon nodded, understanding more than the king realized. Desperation drove even kings into the dirt.

They climbed the stairs, spiraling higher through the royal tower. The air grew colder the further they ascended, heavy with the stench of old blood and something fouler.

Finally, they reached the last floor.

Two elite guards snapped to attention as they approached a massive blackened door reinforced with golden locks and carvings of chained beasts. They bowed low to the king.

Daemon studied the scene carefully.

He leaned closer to Velrick . "Have you been... feeding him humans?"

The king froze mid-step.

Slowly, he turned to look at Daemon, his gaze dark and unreadable.

"If you're here to lecture me," he said quietly, "or fight me over it... you're welcome to try."

Daemon held his stare, unflinching.

"I have no interest in lecturing you," he said coolly. "I'm just... curious."

For a second,Velrick 's mouth twitched—something between a smirk and a grimace. But he said nothing more.

Daemon already knew the answer anyway.

The king signaled the guards.

The massive door creaked open, releasing a gust of thick, metallic air.

Inside, the room was enormous—bare stone floors, iron chains bolted into the walls... and in the center, lying sprawled on a slab of rotting velvet, was it.

A creature.

Seven feet tall. Bloated with layers of glistening flesh. Twisted arms. Blackened veins. Its mouth gaped slightly, showing jagged, broken teeth.

The demonic aura pouring off it was suffocating, almost physical. Bones and shredded cloth were scattered everywhere—skulls, ribs, scraps of armor. The stink of death saturated the air.

The creature stirred.

Bloodshot, yellowed eyes rolled toward the door.

"Fa...ther..." it gurgled, voice wet and broken.

Daemon kept his face still, but his fingers itched for a weapon.

"Is that your son?" he asked quietly.

The king gave a broken, hollow laugh. He stepped forward toward the creature without fear.

"Yes," Velrick said, placing a trembling hand on the monster's bloated forehead. "This... was once my son."

The creature shuddered under his touch, making a low, pained whimper.

Daemon watched carefully.

Not with pity.

"So that's what a corrupted fragment does when it bonds to a human..."