Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression-Chapter 82: The truth you must hear

"Oh please," Samuel scoffed. "That heart just stabilizes his aura output. Aura users burn through stamina so fast, their heart can give out mid-fight. The dragon heart keeps him alive when he pushes too far. But it doesn't make him a dragon."

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Nyxtriel crossed her arms. "I don't care. He's not human."

Samuel stared at her for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You've been here nearly a year, and you still can't stand me."

She didn't answer.

"Why do you hate humans so much?" he asked.

Nyxtriel looked down at Daemon, her voice low. "Because humans are human. That's all."

Samuel blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. "That's the dumbest, most honest thing I've heard all my lifetime ." He shook his head, setting the cocoa down. "I hope one day you trust me enough to tell me the real reason."

He turned and left the room.

Nyxtriel remained, standing beside Daemon's bed, silently watching him breathe.

She glanced at the cocoa and sighed. She hated to admit it, but Samuel was right.

Behind her, Umbra padded closer and leapt gently into Nyxtriel's arms. She picked up the cat and stroked her softly.

It had taken months, but she'd finally bonded with the creature. Just like with Samuel, it hadn't come easy.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled slowly, then reached for the cup. Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted it.

The cat blinked up at her as if urging her on.

"I know, I'll drink it," Nyxtriel muttered.

She downed the cocoa in one gulp. Her eyes widened.

"...It's delicious."

"I'm glad you liked it," came Samuel's voice from the doorway.

Startled, Nyxtriel spun around as the cat leapt from her arms and trotted over to Samuel, purring as he scooped her up.

"Disgusting!" she snapped, her cheeks flushed. "Don't sneak in like that!"

Samuel chuckled. "You say that, but you finished the whole cup. Even licked the rim clean."

Nyxtriel turned her face away. "Stupid old man..."

"Alright, alright," he said, amused. "There's more in the kitchen if you want it. Come get some rest."

He left the room, still smiling.

Eventually, Nyxtriel stood and followed, making her way downstairs. She sat by the window, watching the snow fall thick and quiet over the dead town.

"Are you cold?" Samuel asked from the stove.

"Not really," she replied. "I don't feel cold or heat. I don't need food either. I'm not human,I'm a sword."

Samuel paused, then silently placed another cup of cocoa on the table beside her.

"Honestly," Samuel said, sipping his cocoa, "it's my first time seeing a soul weapon. I've always wondered,were you dead before they fused your soul to a weapon?"

"Not really," Nyxtriel replied. "Lord Seraphiel took me in when I was alone in the demon realm. The law there was simple,eat or be eaten. He nearly killed me the first time we met. He was terrifying back then."

She looked down at her hands.

"He kept me because I had fire traits, even though I was weak. Every time he killed a powerful demon, he'd make me roast them like meat so he could eat their cores. I was useful. Even when the other demons treated me like prey."

Samuel nearly choked on his drink. "So... you were his personal chef?"

"I'd be anything for my lord." Her voice was firm. "But everything changed when he asked me to become his sword. I agreed—because it meant I could be by his side. Stronger. Closer."

"I see," Samuel said, his tone softening. "But you didn't answer my question."

Nyxtriel was quiet for a moment. Then:

"There was someone who helped him... They ground my body, squeezed my soul out, and sealed it into a blade."

Samuel's eyes widened in horror. "Wait—what? They ground your body? Did you feel pain?"

"I took it all." Her tone was flat. "I'm a demon. We don't fear pain like your kind. Pain makes us stronger."

Samuel sat back, visibly disturbed, sweat forming on his brow. "And despite all that... you're still loyal to him?"

"Of course," she said, as if it were obvious. "He's our demon king. The ruler of the demonic realm. I've always looked up to him. But now... those gods and angels, those humans, they took him from us. Turned him into one of them."

She slammed her fist into the table. It cracked under the force.

Silence fell over the room. Heavy and Awkward.

Samuel finally broke the silence. "Ahem. You know, I used to be one of the elites in the Holy Land—like those masked zealots we saw. Back then, I was young, gifted. People loved me for my holy power, my devotion. But this world... it's not what it seems."

He stared into his cup. "Wearing white robes and praying to the gods doesn't make you good. Evil exists in people—sometimes more in the righteous than the wicked. I'd say we're all part good, part evil."

Nyxtriel frowned. "I don't understand you, old man."

Samuel nodded. "I don't blame you. What I mean is—I've seen what that 'holy' place does to the people it claims to protect. I watched them murder curse-bearers—children born with demonic traits—just to keep their image clean. They didn't care if the child was innocent. If you had demon blood, even a drop, you were marked for death."

He looked out the window, eyes distant.

"There was a boy. Barely twelve. He had a faint demonic Astra core. The elders said sealing it wasn't enough. Our mission was to kill him. That was supposed to be my final trial to become a Saint. But I couldn't do it. So they betrayed me. Banished me. Took everything."

He paused, then continued, voice heavy with memory. "The Holy Land... it looked like paradise. A shining kingdom built to serve the four gods of this world. When you reached a high enough rank, they sent you to other nations to build churches, spread the word, and 'purify evil.' But behind the white robes? Jealousy. Hatred. Corruption."

Samuel gave a small, bitter smile.

"So I left their path. Now, I treat the people they cast aside. Curse-bearers, criminals, even demons like you. I don't care what you are. If you're hurt, I'll heal you. Because at the end of the day, we're all just... people."

Nyxtriel didn't respond. She sat in silence, staring at the floor.

Samuel sipped his cocoa, the faintest smile still lingering.