Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression Chapter 93 93: Her Arrival

Daemon stood, dusting himself off as his eyes adjusted to the dim, eerie light. They had fallen into a cavern massive, silent, ancient. The air was heavy with mana, older and denser than anything above. It pressed against the skin like a warning... or a welco.

A wide underground lake stretched across the center of the chamber. The surface of the water was unnaturally still, as if untouched by ti. In the middle, sitting alone on a circular island of stone, was a massive shape.

A rock.

Or so it seed at first.

The structure was broad, rounded, and jagged with age. Moss clung to its surface, glowing faintly green. A thin stone path led from the edge of the cavern to the platform, cracked and half-subrged in places.

Daemon stared, eyes narrowing.

"That's... not just a rock," he said.

Varian stood beside him, squinting. "Looks like one. A really big one."

"No. Look closer."

Daemon stepped forward slowly, his aura reaching out.

The "rock" stirred.

The moss shifted.

Then the massive shape breathed.

A low, slow exhale. Ancient. Peaceful.

Cracks ran along the shell as it shifted, revealing patterns spiraling glyphs etched into the carapace. Then two glowing eyes opened near the front. Not hostile. Not monstrous. Just... aware.

"Is that a tortoise?" Varian blinked, stunned.

"A tortoise spirit," Daemon said softly. "It's not a boss. It's... sothing else."

The creature slowly turned its head, acknowledging them without moving from its place. Its eyes held no malice, only age—like it had seen centuries pass and barely rembered them.

"It's been sealed here," Daemon muttered, stepping to the edge of the stone path. "Maybe protecting sothing... or being protected."

Varian kept his voice low. "Do you think it'll attack us?"

Daemon shook his head. "No. If it wanted to, it already would've."

They stood there in silence for a mont, the only sound being the slow dripping of water from above and the deep breathing of the tortoise spirit.

Then Daemon took a step forward onto the path.

"I'm going to find out why it's here."

"Wait, it's dangerous!" Varian called out, reaching for Daemon's shoulder.

But Daemon didn't stop.

His eyes locked on the tortoise and more specifically, the faint glow now pulsing from its forehead,demonic energy rippled softly through the air.

Daemon stopped in his tracks.

He understood now.

This wasn't just a dungeon creature.

This tortoise... was Kama-Shima's spirit.

His thoughts raced. The island had always been a mystery in his past life never charted, never spoken of. Now it made sense. The reason no one rembered it... was because the island was the tortoise. A living being, ancient and hidden.

Soone must've killed it.

The mages must've discovered its secret, stolen what they ca for, and left it for dead. That's how the island vanished. The tortoise wasn't just a guardian it was the island.

But now, things were different.

This ti, it was his.

Still, Daemon wasn't ready to strike yet. First, he needed to be sure. If the creature had the fragnt, he would take it. If not,he'd leave it alone.

The tortoise turned its massive head toward them, eyes calm and unreadable. It didn't move. Didn't see them as a threat,Not yet.

Daemon stepped closer, the water lapping quietly at the edge of the path.

"What are you doing?!" Varian hissed behind him. "That thing's huge! And scary! Let's go back before it decides we're food!"

Daemon didn't answer.

He walked slowly, stopping right at the lake's edge, staring into the tortoise's ancient gaze.

The creature shifted just slightly and faced him directly.

Varian jogged up beside him, breath uneven. "Why are you smiling?"

Daemon's expression had changed calm, focused, confident.

"The fragnt... it's on its forehead," he said quietly, almost in awe.

Dark energy began to gather around his body, his aura rising like black smoke from his skin. The ground beneath him cracked faintly.

Varian's eyes widened. "No don't do that! If you release your aura, it'll feel threatened!"

Daemon didn't blink.

"I don't care," he said flatly. "I'm taking what's mine."

He pushed Varian aside and stepped forward, his aura spiking—

Daemon's aura surged as he stepped forward, shadows coiling around his body like smoke caught in a storm. His boots cracked the stone beneath with every step.

The tortoise didn't move but the air shifted.

Its shell pulsed with light, and ancient glyphs across its body began to glow, forming a circular symbol across its back a shield, crafted not of magic, but of pure, condensed will. A defensive barrier older than most spells.

Daemon lunged.

BOOM!

His fist slamd into the side of the tortoise's massive body.

Nothing.

Not even a scratch.

The energy exploded outward, kicking up water and dust. But the tortoise didn't flinch. The glyph-shield absorbed the full impact like a mountain catching a pebble.

Daemon's eyes narrowed. He leapt again, twisting mid-air.

CRACK!

A spinning backfist crashed against the tortoise's forehead.

The glowing shield shimred brighter no damage. His knuckles stung from the impact, bones vibrating like he'd punched solid steel.

"Damn thing," he muttered, retreating a step.

The tortoise blinked slowly.

BAM!

Daemon struck again, this ti with a burst of energy-enhanced fists one after another in a brutal flurry.

Left. Right. Hook. Uppercut.

CRACK! CRACK! BAM! BAM!

Shockwaves rippled through the chamber, shattering stones, sending water splashing against the cavern walls.

But the tortoise still didn't move.

Still didn't react.

The shield held. Unbroken. Untouched.

It wasn't just defense it was indifference.

Daemon skidded back, panting lightly, frustration building. "Is this your answer?" he growled. "A wall?"

The tortoise finally moved. A slow shift of its massive head. Its ancient eyes locked onto Daemon's. Not with anger.

With patience.

As if saying: If you wish to take sothing from ... you'll have to understand first.

Varian stood back, watching the storm of attacks and the lack of any result.

He whistled low. "Okay, yeah. So punching a literal god-turtle was probably a bad idea."

Daemon's eyes narrowed again but he didn't rush in this ti.

Now he knew.

He couldn't break the shield with brute force.

He'd need sothing more.

"Nyxtriel..." Daemon muttered, clenching his fist.

His knuckles were raw, blood dripping down his fingers. He sighed and stood, shaking the pain off.

"I guess I'll try punching that thing a few more tis."

"You're insane," Varian said. "You're bleeding and you still wanna hit it? Look at your hands!"

Daemon glanced down and just as quickly, the wounds began to close. The torn skin healed over with a soft glow of golden light.

Varian's jaw dropped. "Wait—you can use divine energy?"

"That's not the part you should be shocked about," Daemon muttered. "What I need is a sword."

"Like , my lord," a familiar voice chid from behind.

Both Daemon and Varian turned sharply.

Standing at the edge of the cavern was Nyxtriel, white hair flowing, expression calm as ever, but her lips curved in the faintest playful smile.

Varian's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? When did she get here?! How did I not sense her?!"

Daemon couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stepped toward her. "I'm glad you're here... but shouldn't you be guarding Team 2?"

"Oh, that?" Nyxtriel tilted her head, tone light. "When you called , I felt it. You needed help."

She placed a hand on her chest. "Don't forget we're bound by soul. I'll always know where you are, and when you're calling for ."

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "And your companion ?"

Nyxtriel shrugged innocently. "She's taking a little nap. I might've knocked her out... gently."

Varian blinked. "This woman is scary."

Daemon chuckled softly and turned back toward the tortoise. "Good timing, then. That tortoise it has the fragnt."

Nyxtriel's expression turned serious as she followed his gaze. "I see. Should I retrieve it for you?"

"No," Daemon said. "The problem isn't reaching it it's the shield. I need to break through it. I need your blade."

She stepped closer, smile returning. "As you wish, my lord. But next ti, try not to bleed so much before calling . It's a little dramatic."

He smirked. "Worried about ?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Always."

With a glow of silver light, Nyxtriel's form shimred her body flowing like liquid mana until it solidified into a long, elegant sword floating before Daemon. The hilt was black, wrapped in crimson thread, and the blade pulsed faintly with her presence.

Daemon reached out and grabbed the sword.

His aura surged.

"Let's see how unbreakable that shell really is."