Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression-Chapter 83: He’s waken up

Months passed. One cold morning, Nyxtriel sat as always by Daemon's side. Then—his hand twitched.

Her eyes widened. She bolted to her feet. "Mr. Samuel!"

Downstairs, Samuel was sipping tea when he heard her shout and came running.

"What is it now miss?" he asked, catching his breath at the top of the stairs.

"His hand moved! I think he's waking up!"

Samuel clutched his chest. "Calm down, lady. You might've imagined it."

"No, you old fool, he's awake!"

Samuel sighed and stepped past her. "Alright, let's take a look. But I bet he's still—"

He stopped.

Daemon's eyes were open. He was staring at them.

Both Samuel and Nyxtriel froze in place, speechless.

Nyxtriel rushed forward, about to embrace Daemon—when he coughed violently, trying to speak. His throat was dry, and his body trembled as he looked down at his hands: thin, weak, almost unfamiliar.

Nyxtriel dropped to her knees beside the bed. Samuel stepped in, gently helping Daemon sit upright.

"Easy, boy. You alright?"

"I... I'm fine," Daemon rasped.

Nyxtriel quickly handed him a cup of water. He took a few sips, coughing again before clearing his throat.

"Ugh..What happened? I remember swallowing the fragment... then everything went black. Where's Duke Elias and the king Velrick ?"

She and Samuel exchanged a glance.

"My lord, you don't remember anything?" she asked softly.

"I told you—I blacked out. What about the soldiers? They'll be searching for me. We don't have time to stay here—"

"Calm down." Samuel pressed a hand to Daemon's chest, gently pushing him back. "You massacred nearly everyone that day—everyone except the citizens. You've been in a coma for two years."

"Two years?!" Daemon's voice cracked—deeper now, more mature. He looked down at his frail form, clenching his jaw. "Damn it... I don't have time. I need to find the six fragments before my brother or anyone else does. I have to reach that island—"

"My lord, please," Nyxtriel interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. "While you were unconscious, I investigated nearby towns. There's been no word, no signs of pursuit. You're safe—for now."

Daemon fell silent, eyes dark with frustration, but he didn't resist.

Daemon sat in silence, struggling to process it all. Two years had passed—and he had made no progress. The coronation was drawing near. By now, Gabriel would be eighteen, and Daemon had only secured one fragment.

"Tell me," he said, voice low. "What really happened after I blacked out?"

Nyxtriel glanced at Samuel, then back at Daemon. "After you swallowed the fragment... you lost control. You started killing everyone in sight. I handled Elias myself, to make sure no one could claim you had the fragment. After the massacre, you collapsed. I tried to escape, but four masked figures from the Holy Land arrived. They said they were heading to your homeland—Veyrnador."

Daemon's eyes widened. Then he laughed bitterly. "Ahaha no way....It's over."

"What do you mean my lord ?" Nyxtriel asked.

"Those people... they're elites the Saint candidates. If they came after that war, that means it wasn't King Velrick who called them—he's no that foolish, and his plans reek of corruption. And Duke Elias wouldn't summon them either, not with his treasonous schemes. That only leaves one answer: the angels descended and warned them. They must've seen a prophecy about my plan in the future."

"So... they know you're after the fragments?"

"Not exactly. But they know something's coming—a war. When I absorbed that fragment, the power must've triggered the prophecy. That means I have to move faster or else my plan will fail."

Samuel, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. "I don't understand everything you're planning, but... I've seen enough to know this world won't end in peace in the future. I won't live to see how it all plays out, but as someone who saved your life one,No twice—I ask one thing: in the future, don't kill innocent people. Especially children."

Daemon said nothing for a moment, then muttered, "Whatever, old man."

Samuel stepped closer, his voice more serious. "Don't whatever me Boy,I saw your inner world. I heard and see with my two necked eyes the souls screaming. I've never seen someone carry that much death."

Daemon met his eyes. "You think I'm heartless but I have my reasons,trust me old old man Samuel,I don't kill for pleasure. But... I'll honor your request. You saved me twice. That counts for something."

Samuel chuckled. "Cold bastard. I hope you really do as I say,I'll be downstairs."

As he left the room, Nyxtriel smiled softly. "I'm glad you're back, my lord."

"Yeah... me too. I'm glad I'm finally back," Daemon said with a faint smile, sitting up a bit more as his gaze landed on Nyxtriel. "You look smaller than I remember. Did I grow, or were you always this short?"

Nyxtriel puffed her cheeks. "You've grown taller, obviously," she huffed, then gasped. "Wait—your clothes were torn, and I never retrieved the Book of the Demon King! I didn't even save your horse!"

"Relax," Daemon said, chuckling. "You don't have to worry about all that."

"But I failed, my lord. I was supposed to protect you, and I—" Her voice cracked slightly. "I wasn't enough."

Daemon blinked. He hadn't seen her this flustered before. She always held herself together like a blade—sharp and unwavering. Now, she was unraveling.

"Nyxtriel," he said gently, "I'm alive. I'm fine. You didn't fail."

"But I did! I couldn't protect you, Lord Seraphiel—" She stopped mid-sentence, realizing what she'd said, and quickly covered her mouth.

The room grew quiet.

Daemon's expression softened, but his voice was firm. "Nyxtriel... I'm not Seraphiel. I carry his soul, yes, but I'm Daemon now. Seraphiel died. I'm the one going through all this—trying to reclaim what was lost, trying to win not as him, but as myself."

He reached out and gently held her hand, then brushed her cheek with his fingers. "So don't see me as him anymore. Please."

She looked down, conflicted. "But my lo—"

Before she could finish, Daemon leaned forward and hugged her. His arms were weak, but the gesture was warm, grounding.

He didn't fully trust her yet—not entirely—but she hadn't left him. Not when he was broken, not when he was comatose. She stayed. He knew she loved Seraphiel. What she didn't know was that Seraphiel had loved a goddess—and telling her now would only break her further.

Still, she had saved him. Twice.

So, for the first time, he decided to give her something real. Something no one else knew.

"Nyxtriel," he whispered, still holding her, "about the book... I burned it."

Follow curr𝒆nt nov𝒆ls on fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com.

Her eyes widened. "You what? But why?!"

"Because I didn't need it. I already know everything it says—its locations, its secrets."

She blinked. "How?"

Daemon leaned back and looked her in the eyes. "Because this is my second life."

"Second... life?" she echoed.

"Yes. I regressed. An unknown entity gave me a second chance. Told me to find the fragments. Told me to reclaim my power. In my first life, I failed."

He paused, his voice tightening.

"I was betrayed. Tortured. My own twin brother turned on me."

Nyxtriel's eyes searched his face—confused, sad, angry for him—but she didn't interrupt.

Daemon exhaled. "That's why I'm doing all of this. That's why I have to win this time."