Demonic Dragon: Harem System

A massive wall of spirits seemed to stare directly into Nyx's soul, forcing her to bow.

She instinctively recoiled, her violet eyes now glowing with a dark intensity, as if an ancient force was about to emerge.

She tried to hide the unease, but the sword before her seemed to annihilate any defense she could muster. The reaction of her skin, pale and drained of color, did not go unnoticed. It was clear the blade held a power greater than Strax had imagined.

She tried to look away from the sword, but its presence seemed to paralyze her. Still, she maintained the posture of someone trying to escape the truth, as if searching for a way to avoid the questions, the accusations. But Strax was no fool; he knew she was trying to sidestep the situation.

"You're very quiet for someone who should be a primordial goddess," Strax said, the blade trembling slightly, mana flowing through it like an untamed river. The air around them thickened, as if the very environment was molding to the power of the sword and the growing tension.

Nyx didn't respond immediately. She seemed to consider her words, how to express herself. She knew she couldn't lie anymore, that her reaction to the sword had betrayed her, but still, she tried to remain firm. Her eyes locked onto Strax, but the insecurity was visible in her gaze.

She seemed more vulnerable now, as if the sword were a link to something much greater, something she deeply feared.

"I won't give you an easy answer, Strax," she said, her voice a little firmer, though wavering. "This sword... you have no idea what you're holding. Don't point it without knowing what it does."

"Of course," Strax cut in, his voice deep and authoritative. "I've known for a long time. The sword is the key. I didn't understand why the search for spirits seemed wrong, why they disappeared like Evelyn said... But now, I see. Artorias sealed the Spiritual World in it, didn't he?" He questioned.

The answer he sought seemed to gradually surface in his mind, as if the truth were revealing itself in pieces, connecting one point to the next.

A sword capable of holding thousands of spirits, an ancestor who sealed spirits, the fact that the protector of the Spirit Dwelling said all spirits were gone, the fact that only he and his family had spirits... Strax, in all his reincarnations... He had never seen another spirit that wasn't from his family or connected to him in some way.

Silence hung between them, and Nyx seemed to hesitate, as if the truth were a curse to be shared.

"It's... more complicated than you imagine," Nyx murmured, averting her gaze. She seemed more self-conscious with the sword so close, as if the air around her was about to tear apart. "But yes... The Spiritual World was imprisoned in that sword, but not simply. It wasn't a choice, Strax. It wasn't something that could be avoided."

Strax gritted his teeth, his suppressed fury, but an immense coldness taking over him. He stepped a little closer, the blade now shining with more intensity, a bluish aura enveloping it like a storm of ice about to explode. The spiritual energy around them seemed to warp, as if the very laws of reality were being challenged.

"Don't try to deceive me," Strax said in a frigid voice, his anger well-contained. "You'll tell me everything now, or I'll erase your soul. The sword is the key to it. And you know that, Nyx. What happened? Why are you trapped in it? Why are you, a primordial goddess, reduced to a spirit?"

Nyx seemed to suffer under the pressure of his words, but there was no longer any way to escape. She knew she could no longer hide the truth, that her reaction to everything couldn't be denied. She bit her lower lip as if preparing for an internal battle.

"You're right, Strax," she said finally, her voice now lower, full of pain. "The Spiritual World was imprisoned, but not by choice... It was necessary. I... I was part of what caused this. I was sealed because, at the time, the balance was about to be broken, and I was the only one who could stop it. But something happened. The decision was made, and it wasn't mine... I was the only one left behind."

The pain in Nyx's words was palpable. She seemed to fight against herself, against the regrets and echoes of what had happened. The sword before her, the same one that sealed her, seemed to feed on the anguish she felt.

"And who did this?" Strax asked, his eyes piercing into Nyx with the intensity of a storm about to break. He already knew, but he still wanted to hear it from her. He wanted her to admit it.

"My brother," she whispered, her voice broken. "He did this. I was one of the last primordials with enough power to interfere with the world's balance, and he... he believed this was necessary to avoid a greater cataclysm. The sword, the blade you hold, it was forged by him and given to Artorias so he could fight a greater being. And he trapped me in it, isolating the Spiritual World so no one else could access it."

Strax fell silent for a moment, processing Nyx's words. The revelation wasn't exactly what he expected, but it wasn't a surprise either. His own fate was intertwined with his family's bloodline, and now, he could see how the pieces were starting to fit together.

"And why did no one know about this? I know there are gods, but a primordial is something greater than a god," Strax asked, his voice softer but still tense. "Why were you, a primordial goddess, silenced and forgotten for so long?"

"Because my brother... he made sure no one knew. He betrayed me," Nyx replied with a heavy sigh. "He destroyed all memories of me and what I was, erased any trace of my existence, and used my energy to make the sword strong enough to seal the spiritual realm within it. But deep down, I never truly disappeared. I've always been there, just... waiting."

"So what do you want?" Strax asked, his sword still glowing with dark energy, reflecting the tension that was accumulating in the air between them.

Nyx lifted her eyes, her golden gaze now more focused and serious. She seemed to finally open up, no longer trying to evade the truth. "I can't go back to what I was. The power needed to imprison the Spiritual World was drawn from my own vitality. It left me... broken. What's left now is just existence. But I... I just want to be free."

Strax fell silent for a moment, his thoughts spinning rapidly. What Nyx was saying was unsettlingly similar to what Artorias had told him. He knew the situation was far from simple, but the pieces were slowly starting to fall into place, forming a bigger picture that he still didn't fully understand.

'The story I heard from Artorias is similar to this... but...' Strax thought, sheathing the sword with a precise and enigmatic motion. The blade, though less threatening without its presence, still seemed to emit a powerful aura. But now, more than ever, he understood what was at stake.

"I didn't imagine it would be so... complex," Strax murmured, his voice serious. "But I understand. What you need is more than just physical freedom. You need the strength to restore yourself."

He paused, contemplating the words he was about to say. "When we return to the Vampire Kingdom, there should be a homunculus ready for you. I'll do whatever is necessary to remove the seal and restore your power. If that means freeing you from your current state, we'll do it."

Nyx looked at him with an expression that mixed gratitude and caution, as if she were still evaluating the true extent of Strax's words. But the relief in her eyes was undeniable. She knew that the chance to be freed was closer now, more concrete.

"I thank you," she said, with a lightness that seemed to be drawn from a long suffering.

[Days Ago...]

"A war," Artorias said, his serious gaze fixed on Strax. "I brought you here to finish the war that's about to begin."

"What war?" Strax questioned, his voice direct and filled with skepticism as he stared at his ancestor.

Artorias sighed, as if the answer were obvious, but still necessary. "Nyx tried to prevent a cataclysm, an event that would shake the very foundations of the realms. To do that, she sealed almost all of the primordial gods, with the help of the Olympian Gods. But in the process, she lost all her power, even the ability to create the dimension you see now."

Strax furrowed his brow, trying to understand the meaning behind Artorias's words. He still didn't fully comprehend the extent of what was being said.

"The power of the Night was what was used to seal the Spiritual Realm," Artorias continued, pointing a finger at Strax, a shadow in his eyes. "That power is now trapped in a sword, a key to either open or destroy everything it sealed. The seal is weakened, but the only way to break it is with someone strong enough to face it."

Strax remained silent for a moment, absorbing the words, trying to piece together the fragments of information being offered.

"Going to Tartarus is impossible for a human like me," Artorias said, his voice serious. He then fixed his gaze on Strax, a glint of understanding in his eyes. "But not for a Demon Dragon."

The words echoed in Strax's mind, and their weight hit him like a revelation. He knew what that meant. To Artorias, he was no longer just a descendant of dragons; he carried a latent power, something that could be the key to what was to come.

"You want me to break Nyx's seal," Strax murmured, the understanding lighting up his face.

"Not just Nyx's seal," Artorias corrected, his expression grim. "But the balance between all the realms. You're the only chance we have to stop the cataclysm that's approaching."