Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression Chapter 29 29: The Hollow in His Chest

The second day ca.

The day Daemon said he would return.

And Eren hadn't slept.

He sat in the sa alley where they first t—tucked between two crumbling walls behind the orphanage, knees hugged to his chest, eyes raw with exhaustion.

Dark circles frad his face like bruises.

He hadn't spoken to the nuns.

He hadn't played with the others.

He hadn't even eaten.

He just waited.

At first, he told himself he was just being curious.

Then he told himself it was just a coincidence—he'd happen to be there again.

But after the fifth hour, he stopped pretending.

He was waiting for Daemon.

Why can't I stop thinking about what he said...?

Every word had replayed in his mind like a cracked lullaby.

"The world is filthy."

"They made you like this."

"Send them to peace."

At night, he dread of the orphanage burning.

And woke up... relieved.

His chest felt hollow. Like sothing had been carved out of him and replaced with a whisper.

A whisper that sounded like Daemon's voice.

He stared at the ground, fingers twitching.

Then—

Footsteps.

Slow. asured. Familiar.

Eren looked up fast.

Daemon stood at the mouth of the alley, the morning sun at his back, casting a long, sharp shadow that reached Eren before he did.

He wasn't smiling.

Not yet.

"Did you think about it?" Daemon asked.

Eren's lips parted—but no words ca.

He just nodded.

Very slowly.

Daemon's gaze sharpened. "And?"

Eren stood up. The wind tugged at his clothes. His voice shook.

"...I don't know if it's right."

Daemon didn't blink.

"But I know they'll never stop."

Daemon stepped closer.

"And do you want to keep living like this?"

Eren hesitated. "...No."

Daemon's smile returned. Not cruel. Not wide.

Just... satisfied.

"Good."

He extended his hand.

"Then let show you how we fix that."

Eren's fingers wouldn't stop shaking.

Not from fear anymore—but from sothing deeper.

Sothing colder.

He stared at the cracked cobblestones beneath his feet, his throat dry, chest tight. His voice ca out like a whisper being dragged over glass.

"I... I've been seeing things."

Daemon tilted his head, watching.

"Dreams," Eren continued. "Maybe visions. I don't know. There was blood. A lot of it. I was standing in a pool of it, and soone pushed in. Soone with horns. Black eyes."

His hands clenched at his sides. "I thought it was the devil. I was so sure. But now..."

He looked up slowly, eyes wide and empty.

"Now I think it was ."

Daemon's gaze didn't waver. "And are you afraid of that?"

Eren's jaw trembled.

"...No."

Daemon took a step forward.

"I'm not a demon, Eren," he said, voice low. "I'm human. Like you. I bleed. I suffer. I rember."

"But I won't let the pain win."

He crouched to Eren's level.

"I won't watch this world grind down another soul just because it can."

Eren's eyes filled with sothing between grief and acceptance. His voice broke.

"I don't want to see it anymore. The way they look at . Like I'm already dead. I just... I just want it to stop."

Daemon nodded.

"And it will."

Silence.

Eren reached up with trembling fingers, gripping Daemon's sleeve.

"If I do this," he said, "if I... if I go through with it... it'll be my sin, right?"

Daemon said nothing for a mont.

Then nodded once.

"Yes. Your sin. Your choice. No gods. No saints. No devils."

"Just you."

Eren exhaled. It sounded like a dying wind.

"Then let carry it."

Daemon smiled.

Not cruel. Not gleeful.

Just... calm.

"You're doing sothing they'll never understand," he said. "You're taking away the future that would've ruined them."

Eren looked down at his hands.

They weren't shaking anymore.

He closed his eyes.

"Thank you."

Daemon straightened up, adjusting his cloak.

"Finish your al. Sleep well tonight."

He turned to leave the alley.

"Because tomorrow, Eren..."

He didn't look back.

"...you'll change everything."

Daemon pulled sothing small from beneath his cloak—a slender glass bottle, filled with a thick, translucent liquid. It shimred faintly under the alley's dim morning light.

Eren stared at it.

"This," Daemon said, placing it gently into his hands, "will let them sleep."

Eren's fingers curled around the bottle. It was warm. Or maybe his palms were just that cold.

"It's painless," Daemon added. "They won't suffer. No choking. No screams. Just sleep. Peaceful. Quiet."

Eren's eyes flicked up. "Why are you giving this to ?"

Daemon t his gaze, calm as ever.

"Because you deserve the choice."

He pointed at the bottle with a tilt of his chin.

"It's half-full. Enough to share with whoever deserves... rcy. Or withhold it from those who don't."

Eren's breath caught. The glass vial trembled in his hand.

"So I decide," he whispered.

Daemon nodded. "This is your act. Your truth. Your redemption or your curse. No one will take it from you."

Eren looked down again.

The bottle seed heavier than before.

But his hands didn't shake.

"I know who I'll give it to," he said quietly. "And who won't get any."

A long pause.

Then Daemon offered a faint smile.

"Then good luck, Eren."

He turned, stepping away into the shadows of the alley's far wall.

Eren watched him go, then turned in the opposite direction—back toward the orphanage.

He didn't cry.

He didn't hesitate.

He just walked.

Like a boy going ho.

Like a ghost marching to its grave.

Like soone who had finally decided what kind of monster they wanted to beco.

And the bottle shimred in his hand, soft and silent.

Just like the death he was about to give.