Demonic Dragon: Harem System - Chapter 438

Chapter 438: Arise (Part.II)
“…you…really did it,” Frieren murmured, his deep voice like an echo from deep within a time-sealed cave.

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

“Despite everything…this body has become too sinful…”

She studied herself more closely, her expression becoming a mixture of criticism and indulgent vanity.

Her long white hair cascaded down her back like a cascade of lunar silk, contrasting with the new hue of her skin—once cool as alabaster, now with a subtle warmth, a velvety bronze glow, as if the sun itself had kissed her flesh.

The curves of her body were accentuated almost cruelly, drawn with divine whimsy. Her flat belly, her slim waist, her wide, rounded hips seemed to have been sculpted to provoke—and punish—the gaze. Her facial features retained the ethereal beauty of an elven queen, but with an added touch, as if something forbidden had been carefully added: fuller lips, larger, more enveloping eyes, like wells of desire and threat in equal measure.

Her eyes, which had for a moment glowed a demonic red, stabilized in a mercury-gray tone, hypnotic, silvery and soft—dangerously enchanting. The delicacy of her elven ears remained, long and thin, but above them now appeared two curved black horns, polished like onyx and perfectly integrated into her natural crown of unholy power.

She rose with difficulty, her body still feeling new, unsteady. But then something behind her caught her attention.

“What is this…?”

She reached behind her back—more precisely, at the base of her spine—and, feeling around, pulled carefully. Her fingers found something soft, fuzzy, warm… A white tail, with the silky touch of freshly fallen snow. But the tip was an inverted heart, swaying lazily as if it had a mind of its own.

She held the tail in front of her, her eyes widening slightly as the heart-shaped tip swayed, suggestive.

“…I’ve become a succubus?” Frieren asked, a disconcerting mix of indignation and amusement in her voice.

Strax arched an eyebrow, visibly surprised—perhaps genuinely—and raised his hands in theatrical surrender.

“Look… I swear I didn’t mean to.” He blinked, almost as if to keep from laughing. “I only channel. I transform. I facilitate. If your soul has decided to embrace the more… let’s say, libertine side of eternity, it’s not my fault.” . . . He gestured toward the magic circles still pulsing lightly on the ground, as if seeking to absolve him of any responsibility.

“Magic is a reflection, not an invention. I summoned the strongest in you.” He gave a half-smile. “Apparently, the desire was also very… present.”

Frieren let out a tired sigh, but her lips trembled in an almost smile. “Excellent. I die a heroine… and come back a walking temptation.”

Strax crossed his arms, satisfied. “No one said being reborn would be discreet.”

Lyana, behind her, muttered something inappropriate, rolling her eyes hard enough to almost fall.

Evelyn remained silent, staring at her mother as if she were watching an ancient goddess dress in new—and very provocative—skin.

Frieren stretched her neck slowly, her long hair sliding like silver silk over her renewed shoulders. Her gray eyes—intense and now mysterious—fixed themselves on Evelyn, who still seemed paralyzed between shock and fascination.

The Queen took a deep breath, her voice now firmer, but filled with a warm and familiar authority:

“Hey, you ungrateful daughter,” she said, arching an eyebrow with that old royal tone of command mixed with affection. “I’m alive. Give me a hug already!”

Evelyn blinked as if she had awakened from a trance. The sound of her mother’s voice, that timbre so familiar even after death and rebirth, broke the last layer of shock that enveloped her.

“But you… you were… and now you have a…” She pointed vaguely at the horns. And the little tail. “… This!”

“Yes, yes. Horns. Tail. Infernally elegant appearance. We’ll talk about it later.” Frieren opened her arms, with a provocative smile. “Now come here, before I regret it and decide to go back to the afterlife.”

Evelyn let go of what was left of her hesitation and ran into her mother’s arms, who received her with surprising strength for someone newly reborn.

The embrace was intense. Long. Warm as an ancient bonfire rekindled. Evelyn buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent mixed with a new touch of incense and ancient magic.

“You really came back,” she whispered. “You came back.

Frieren smiled against her daughter’s hair.

“I’m back, my flower. And it seems that now… with a touch more drama than I would have liked.”

Strax cleared his throat behind them.

“Yeah, about that… maybe the new form is only temporary. Or not. Who knows.”

Frieren let out a low laugh, pulling Evelyn a little closer.

“It doesn’t matter. The important thing… is that I’m here.” She spoke…

Strax just looked at them and smiled, “I’ll be going now, enjoy yourselves a bit. I have some dragons to control.”

Strax disappeared before either of them could respond. An arcane snap, a rip in the veil of reality—and there he was, back in the Spirit Abode.

But what he saw made him stop in mid-step.

“…What the fuck are you—”

The words died in his throat. His eyes widened.

Before him stood his wives… or at least versions of them that looked like they’d stepped straight out of a forbidden daydream.

Their bodies were different. More… voluptuous. Every curve accentuated with unearthly precision, their skin luminous, almost ethereal, as if each had been sculpted to tease the divine and the profane at the same time. Hair in exotic hues—snow white, hot pink, flaming gold—fell in silky waves, and their auras… oh, their auras. No longer quiet or subtle, but intense, carnivorous. Their very presence made the air vibrate with lust and power.

And most unsettling were their eyes. They glowed with desire… and hunger. As if Strax were a treasure long guarded, and now no one would share.

He swallowed hard.

“Darlings… why did you change your bodies… your hair color… your damn aura?” Strax tried to laugh, but her voice was shaky. “Not that I’m complaining, far from it, you guys are… phenomenal… but… I’m feeling a little panicky here, okay?”

It was then that Tiamat appeared at her side, with that air of someone who is enjoying every second of the chaos.

“Let me explain,” she said, crossing her arms and observing the others with a slight smile. “I taught them how to manipulate their own bodies. They were starting to look too much alike, so they decided to try to change their appearances… but…”

She gave a suggestive look to one of the wives who was slowly licking her lips, as if savoring the tension in the air.

“But there’s one detail, they had a body reconstruction,” Tiamat continued, more quietly, almost whispering. “During the process, their bloodline stabilized. Now they’ve all reached the Emperor stage. And well… with that came a small side effect: their draconic instincts… are starting to dominate.”

Strax stood still.

Tiamat leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear in a velvety, dangerously amused voice: “Remember when Ouroboros was a sex maniac in your spirit world, during that old contract? Yeah. They’re worse now.”

Strax laughed nervously. “…I’m going to die… happy, but definitely die.”

Tiamat patted his shoulder, laughing. “Hang in there. You still need to make more dragons.”