Demonic Dragon: Harem System - Chapter 437

Chapter 437: Arise (Part.I)
Strax was still smiling, the black aura around him beginning to slowly swirl, like a contained whirlpool of primordial power.

Evelyn remained kneeling, her hands clasped to her mother’s body, her eyes wide in shock. Her mind tried to process what she had heard, but the pain was too thick a fog to allow logic.

Lyana, on the other hand, instinctively put her hand to the hilt of her sword. She said nothing, but her eyes hardened. It was no surprise that Lyana didn’t like Strax very much, especially his ideas, especially when he… well, he released this crazy aura whenever he said something absurd.

“You want to turn the Queen… into a demon?” The captain’s voice didn’t come out angry. It came out in disbelief. Fear. And of course, distrust of this man who always seems crazier every time he passes by.

Strax laughed. “I think you’re being too cautious. As far as I know, I’ve never lied or done anything that would hurt you two. We’re past the point of distrust, don’t you think, Lyana?”

He raised his hand, and a thin line of dark mana snaked from his fingers to the floor, tracing ancient symbols on the bloody marble. “The decision is yours, Evelyn.”

Evelyn pondered; after all, she was confused by the situation. At the same time that she pondered how much her mother would be missed, she also knew that her mother needed to rest. She spent her last thousand years keeping up the appearances of the kingdom and using her vital and physical energy to sustain the nature of the forest.

“Honestly, your mother seemed disappointed.” Strax spoke, trying to help Evelyn make a decision. After all… “She seemed sad that she had to ask someone else to protect you.”

Evelyn didn’t answer right away.

She was still holding her mother’s body tightly, as if the simple act of letting go was some kind of betrayal. The weight of choice hung over her shoulders like the sky falling… Revive her mother at the cost of her eternal peace? Or let her go, even if it meant losing her forever?

Lyana remained still. But her gaze was a spear ready to be thrown. “You speak as if you know what rest is, Strax. As if you know what she wanted.”

Strax looked at the captain, his eyes shining with something that was not exactly anger—but not patience either. ‘I will lie, so I apologize, Queen Frieren.’

“I was in her last moments; I know how she felt.” His voice sounded firmer, and for the first time, without that casual theatricality. Just truth. Raw. Painful.

“She said she regretted not having had time. She said she wanted to see Evelyn grow up as a free woman. She wanted to be by her side when she was crowned. When she made mistakes. When she cried. When she loved.”

Strax lowered his eyes for a moment.

“She died hoping for more time. And that, Lyana, doesn’t exactly sound like someone who wanted rest.”

Evelyn closed her eyes tightly. Strax’s words cut deeper than any sword. Because they rang… true despite being lies.

“Will she continue to be her? Or will she just be… a reflection? An obedient shadow?” Evelyn questioned.

Strax inclined his head, and this time his expression softened. “She will be her… but not the same. Her soul will remain, memories and everything that surrounded her life, Evelyn. The essence. But her body will be different; she will have horns and will probably no longer be an elf. Her feelings will probably be stronger. It’s… complicated. But not wrong, just a new way of life.”

He paused, then added in a serious tone, “And time, Evelyn… time is what she asked for. This is the only way to give it to her.”

Silence.

Lyana still held the sword, but she did not draw it. It was as if the blade awaited the princess’s choice as well.

Evelyn looked up at the sky for a moment—that pale, dirty blue, still marked by the smoke of battle. Then she looked at her mother. At her calm but already distant face.

Then she looked at Strax.

She nodded.

But the words were slow to come.

“Do that. But…” And her tone gained unexpected firmness. “If she suffers, if she begs to be freed, if she… loses who she is… do you swear you will let her go?”

Strax smiled. Not with joy but with a rare, heavy respect, as if carrying the weight of centuries in a simple gesture.

“Whenever she asks,” he said, his voice like an oath sealed in stone. “I promise.”

The air shifted.

It was as if the world held its breath.

The arcane circles began to swirl around Frieren, slow at first, then faster, more intense—layers of ancient symbols overlapping in spirals of raw energy. Lines of dark and golden mana snaked across the marble, cracking it further, while fresh blood was sucked into the runes as if the spell itself hungered.

The light in the chamber flickered. Then fled.

Strax reached out.

His fingers hovered over the queen’s cold heart, then touched. A single spark of mana escaped the contact, like a crack of trapped thunder.

Silence.

A metallic sound erupted, sharp, inhuman.

Like chains snapping.

Like distorted bells ringing somewhere between worlds.

And then…

Frieren’s eyes flew open.

Slowly.

Where once had been the serene green of the eternal forests, now glowed a deep red, with purple veins swirling like galaxies trapped in her irises.

Evelyn stumbled back. Her heart pounded, her eyes wide. Fascination. Terror. Hope.

Frieren gasped.

The sound of her breathing was harsh, like someone returning to the surface after centuries of submersion. She blinked, confused, her gaze wandering over the chaos around her. Lyana. Evelyn.

And then… Strax.

She tried to stand. Her arm trembled, failed. Her body was still too new, too strange. But her voice—though hoarse—came like the echo of thunder buried beneath mountains:

“…you… really did it,” Frieren murmured, her voice deep as an echo from deep within a cave sealed by time.

She looked up, blinking slowly—and then back at her distorted reflection in a pool of blood and dormant magic on the marble. What she saw made her brows furrow with something between shock and… curiosity.