Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression Chapter 124 124: The Fall of Feathered Walls

The theater's performance concluded, leaving Gabriel visibly unsettled. Daon remained seated, his expression unreadable, seemingly impervious to the intended provocation.

Gabriel abruptly stood and exited.

"Wait!" Vivian called out, reaching for him.

But Gabriel was already gone.

"Aren't you going to stop your brother?" Luka asked.

"Of course not. They brought this upon themselves," Daon replied.

Luka's smug expression remained. "I see. Then you're finally acknowledging your true nature."

That was the final straw for Daon.

"I see. Then I'll be going with my brother," he said, extending his hand to Zaria. "Let's go."

"What? I'm not going with you!" she protested.

Ignoring her refusal, Daon took her hand and led her away.

Luka's fury boiled over as he reached for his sword.

"The mont you draw that, consider yourself dead," Daon warned, his glare icy.

Zaria felt a strange mix of emotions but followed Daon nonetheless.

Luka stood alone, fists clenched.

Before arriving at the theater, Luka had received one clear instruction from the Saintess: protect Zaria at all costs.

He rembered it well—the day of Daon's baptism when the holy water turned black the mont it touched him. From that day on, Luka knew the boy was dangerous, the prophesied reincarnation of the Demon King. But what he never understood was why the king spared him. Why let sothing so clearly cursed continue to live?

Still, for the good of the kingdom, Luka had made his decision long ago. If no one else would act, he would.

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized how far Daon and Zaria had walked ahead. He exhaled sharply and moved to catch up with them—only to hear a voice behind him.

"Eclipse Claw."

Dark tendrils burst from the shadows and wrapped tightly around Luka, the sheer force of demonic energy squeezing the air from his lungs.

"Stop!" he choked, struggling.

Daon erged from the dark, calm and slow in his steps. "I figured you'd try sothing. I could feel it—your thoughts, your intent. You're such a pain."

Luka snarled through clenched teeth. "I knew it. You are a demon. This power... it's yours! I'll tell everyone what you are!"

"Everyone?" Daon echoed with a smirk.

"Yes!" Luka gasped. "The temple, the royal family—they'll know you killed !"

Daon raised an eyebrow, amused. "Why would a dead man talk?"

With a flick of his hand, the tendrils tightened around Luka's chest. He coughed blood, his body convulsing.

"I'm sorry!" Luka cried, eyes wide with fear. "Please—spare ! If I disappear now, they'll suspect you. They'll co for you!"

Daon paused, pretending to consider it. "Hmm... you're right."

A flicker of hope lit up Luka's face.

Then Daon placed a hand on his forehead. In an instant, dark energy surged through Luka's body as Daon began absorbing his divine astra core—and with it, his life force.

Luka scread in agony, his armor rattling as his body shriveled, rapidly aging to a brittle husk inside the tal shell.

With a final sneer, Daon tossed the withered body toward the waiting tendril. Its mouth opened and swallowed what was left of him whole.

"Tch. Pathetic," Daon muttered. "You should be grateful. I let you die quietly."

Daemon quickly overturned chairs and shattered the table, scattering splinters across the room. With a calculated breath, he released a trace of divine energy, just enough to stage the illusion of a battle. Then, pressing his palm against his chest, he forced a disruption into his own system, triggering a violent cough that stained his lips with blood.

Just then, Zaria appeared, materializing with a gust of wind. "You bastard!" she snapped, breathless. "You vanished without a word—"

She stopped as her eyes scanned the wreckage. "Where's Sir Luka?!"

Daemon didn't respond. Instead, he turned his head slightly, letting her see the dark circles under his eyes and the flickering divine aura pulsing faintly around him.

"What happened?" she shouted, moving toward him.

"Don't," Daemon said weakly, wiping blood from his mouth. "Don't co any closer. I don't want you to see like this—pathetic... broken."

Zaria hesitated, her anger softening with concern. "Are you saying Luka... fought you?"

Daemon's fist clenched. "Yes. He attacked ... I was barely able to fight him off. He disappeared afterward—I don't know where he went."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"

As if on cue, Daemon lurched forward and vomited more blood onto the marble floor.

"Damn it—stay still!" Zaria rushed to his side, placing a glowing hand on his chest. "You're seriously hurt. Let heal you."

Her divine energy flowed into him, but sothing was off—there was resistance, like demonic energy fighting back. She frowned, confused.

Daemon felt the danger of exposure rising. He had to act.

Eyes still closed, he recalled Nyxtriel's warning and their plan. Then, without hesitation, he yanked Zaria toward him—and kissed her.

Her eyes shot wide open, her whole body stiffening. A second later, she shoved him away, flustered and red-faced. "What the hell was that?!"

He coughed, covering his smirk. "Sorry... the mont got a little too intense. I thought I was dying and... acted on impulse."

Zaria turned away, hands trembling slightly as she tried to hide her face behind her feathers.

"I don't understand you sotis, Daon," Zaria said, her voice soft but sharp with confusion.

Daon blinked. She'd used his na—not 'demon', not 'Seraphiel'.

"You're unpredictable," she continued. "You tease one second, then drag into this ss. You even brought here knowing Gabriel would be around. Why? What are you trying to do?"

Daon paused. He couldn't tell her the truth—that she was part of a plan. But a partial truth, coated in enough emotion, could work. "The truth is... I see a bit of myself in you. There's soone I care about, deeply. But to her, I'm just a shadow of soone else. A mory. Not the person in front of her."

He didn't say Nyxtriel's na, but it was true. She saw Seraphiel, not Daon.

Zaria's expression softened. For once, she seed to understand. But she wasn't finished.

"Then tell ... why did you kiss ?"

Daon shrugged with a teasing smile. "Maybe because you looked adorable."

Her cheeks turned scarlet. "Idiot... shut up!"

There was a pause. She glanced away, her feathers trembling faintly.

"The truth is," she said slowly, "I wasn't always like this. I was just a regular angel, a servant of Goddess Lumina."

At the ntion of that na, Daon's heart skipped. He unconsciously touched his chest. Why did it hurt?

Zaria went on. "There's a river in heaven we're forbidden to look into. But I did. I saw Michael—the hero who fought the Demon King. I didn't understand it then, but I fell in love with him. And after his death, I waited, hoping he'd return. I thought Gabriel was his reincarnation. I thought maybe... I could be by his side."

Her voice cracked, her gaze falling. "But it's pointless now. He's in love with soone else."

Daon hadn't expected this. Her entire reason for descending... was love?

"But why stay here, then?" he asked.

She slowly raised a hand, catching one of her feathers as it drifted to the ground. "Haven't you noticed? My feathers are falling. The more I stay in this world, the more I lose myself. I wanted Gabriel to pluck them all—turn human. But I failed."

Tears welled up in her eyes.

Without thinking, Daon stepped closer and gently pulled her into a hug. She tensed but didn't pull away.

"If my brother won't accept your heart," he whispered, "then why not give it to soone who will?"

Zaria said nothing—but her trembling slowed.

And Daon, behind that calm mask, smiled.

Because now he knew exactly how to break her.

Zaria looked up at Daemon, her eyes uncertain. "Are you saying... you'd love ? Truly?"

"Yes," Daemon said softly. "Even if you doubt now, I want you to trust . I'll love you dearly, Zaria."

He gently lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it. Her cheeks flushed.

"Saying things like that... it's embarrassing," she mumbled, glancing away. "Aren't you embarrassed?"

"Of course I am," he said with a small smile. "But sohow, you give the courage to say it."

She didn't respond imdiately. Her gaze drifted to the side. Maybe... if it was Daemon, she could let go. Maybe she could finally forget Gabriel. They looked alike, but Daemon felt different—he saw her differently.

Without warning, she stepped forward and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest.

"Idiot," she whispered.

Then, softer: "Take away from here. Please."

Daemon's eyes widened. Was she finally giving in?

"Are you sure?" he asked, voice low. "You trust ?"

She nodded into his chest. "Stupid demon," she muttered, and gave a small, crooked grin.

Daemon didn't fully understand her tone—but he didn't need to. What mattered was that she was his now. No more threats, no more divine interference. Just a little longer... and her feathers would fall.

And when they did, she'd no longer be an angel.