Royal Bastard’s Bloodstained Regression
Chapter 117: Wings and Whimpers

Dameon and Gabriel sat inside the royal carriage, the golden curtains drawn halfway back, allowing sunlight to spill over their silent forms. Dameon leaned against the window, quietly watching the bustling streets of Varyndor pass by.

Gabriel glanced sideways. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing serious. Just watching the crowd... how peaceful everything looks."

Gabriel smiled. "Yeah. Peaceful."

Peaceful enough... Dameon thought....it won't last long.

He turned to Gabriel. "Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Mother these past two days."

Gabriel shifted. "She's fine. She left for Grandfather's estate."

"Marquis Donovan, huh." Dameon kept his voice neutral. The man who helped kill my mother. A mastermind hiding behind titles and wealth.

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded. "We're not exactly close, but we speak from time to time."

"And Father? Did you see him?"

"I did, this morning," Gabriel said, voice quieter now. "He's... doing okay, though I think he's hallucinating."

"Hallucinations?"

"Yeah," Gabriel confirmed. "He looked me dead in the eyes and called me... 'Rose.' That name's familiar somehow. I think I heard it from one of the older maids. Or maybe I'm overthinking it."

Dameon's fingers twitched slightly. "Maybe he wants flowers," he offered with a dry smile.

Gabriel laughed. "Maybe. He's weird."

A brief silence settled between them.

Then Gabriel asked, almost too casually, "Hey, Dameon... how would you feel if Mother wasn't really our mother?"

Dameon's eyes sharpened. He kept his voice calm. "I wouldn't feel anything. Why do you ask?"

Gabriel opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head. "It's nothing. Just forget it."

Of course. He always did that—mention something important, then retreat. Dameon leaned forward.

"You don't have to keep hiding it, Gabriel. Something's wrong with you."

Gabriel's eyes flickered with surprise. "You don't have to worry. There's nothing wrong with me."

Liar, Dameon thought. But he said nothing.

After a long, quiet ride, the carriage finally came to a halt. The servants stepped forward, pulling the door open as the soft clatter of armor and sandals echoed from the temple grounds.

Gabriel stepped down first. "I guess we're finally here."

Dameon followed, pausing as his boots hit the ground. He looked up.

The temple loomed ahead—tall, white, and imposing. The Stairs of Judgment stretched endlessly before them, more than fifty stone steps leading to the sanctuary above.

He exhaled.

"Let's go," Gabriel said calmly.

"I understand," Dameon replied, his tone even.

They began the climb. Gabriel glanced sideways at him. "This place... I know it probably brings up some bad memories. But don't let them control you."

Dameon didn't respond immediately. He just stared ahead at the doors, unmoved. "I get it."

As they reached the final step, two guards stationed at the massive twin doors stood at attention. The moment they recognized the figures approaching, they pulled the doors open without hesitation.

"Is that... Prince Dameon?"

"So the rumors were true. He really came back."

Dameon sighed. "Are you done gossiping like women?"

The guards immediately bowed in embarrassment. "S-sorry, Your Highness!"

He didn't respond. With a cool glance, he passed through them alongside Gabriel, entering deeper into the temple.

"I thought you weren't going to say anything," Gabriel said with a grin.

"That was before. Now it's just getting annoying," Dameon muttered.

He stepped into the radiant light of the temple like a warrior entering familiar territory.

And then it hit him.

That holy energy—the same divine radiance that once scorched his very soul—washed over him again. But this time... it didn't burn. It didn't sting. It was cool. Clean. Almost welcoming.

It must be because of the dragon heart... and the trace of divine energy in my core, he thought.

The temple stretched wide around them. Sunlight poured through tall stained-glass windows, casting colored beams across the marble. The scent of incense and parchment lingered in the air. Priests and paladins paused, bowing respectfully as the twin princes passed.

Gabriel leaned closer. "We'll see the High Priest first. Then... the Saintess."

Dameon's eyes narrowed slightly. Lilaac.

His footsteps echoed along the polished stone, sharp and steady. Then, a voice called out from ahead:

"Your Holiness, please don't run on the marble floor!"

Dameon turned toward the sound. They reached the next hall just in time to witness the chaos: a familiar figure running barefoot through the open chamber.

It was Lilaac—dressed in flowing white robes, her long silver hair bouncing behind her, with two frantic maids chasing her.

"What is she doing?" Dameon muttered.

Before he could step forward, Gabriel suddenly grabbed his arm. "That's not who I meant."

"Huh? Then where's—"

"Look up," Gabriel said.

Dameon tilted his head.

There—hovering above them in the high arch of the chamber—was a figure with four gleaming wings and short golden hair. Her radiance was blinding.

Then she spotted Gabriel.

"Oh, Michael~!"

With a wide grin, the angel shot through the air, wings flaring as she bolted toward them like a missile.

Dameon blinked. "...She's not what I expected."

Zaria clung tightly to Gabriel as they crashed to the ground. Her golden hair spilled over his shoulder, radiant as ever. She giggled, completely ignoring the growing tension.

"I missed you, Michael!"

"I told you already—I'm Gabriel," he said with a soft laugh, patting her back. "But yeah, I missed you too."

Daemon watched the scene, arms crossed. "Miss you too?" He scoffed silently. So that's why he didn't bring Vivian today... how bold.

"Your Holiness, please don't run!" a maid cried behind them, out of breath.

Daemon turned just as a familiar face appeared—Saintess Lilaac, accompanied by two flustered attendants. She halted mid-step the moment she saw him.

"P-Prince... Dameon?" she whispered. Her hands trembled. Her body froze.

Zaria glanced over her shoulder at the commotion, her playful expression shifting instantly. Her eyes locked onto Daemon—his hair, his posture, the aura coiling around him.

Twin faces. But only one radiated that familiar ancient darkness.

She rose slowly. The wind around her grew heavy.

"Seraphiel..." she whispered, her voice sharp like a blade drawn in silence.

Daemon took a step back, jaw tight. So the Saintess sold me out, he thought, shooting Lilaac a scathing glare. She dropped her gaze in guilt.

In the blink of an eye, Zaria moved.

Her fist struck Daemon's face with explosive force, sending him flying across the hall. He crashed through a marble pillar and hit the wall with a sickening thud, then collapsed to the floor, coughing up blood.

Gabriel's eyes widened in horror. "Zaria, stop it!"

Daemon groaned, his horns threatening to burst through his scalp, his demonic core begging to retaliate—but he stopped himself. Not yet. His plan was bigger than one angel.

"He's the Demon King reborn!" Zaria shouted, her wings spread wide, glowing with divine light. "His soul is a curse to this world!"

"And he's my brother!" Gabriel snapped, stepping between them. "You will not lay another finger on him."

Zaria blinked, stunned. "You're defending him?"

"Yes. He's not the monster from the prophecy. He left Varyndor to protect us. He's here now because of me—and I'll protect him, even if it means standing against the gods."

Zaria's fury softened, the wind around her dying down. She stepped back slightly, pouting. "You know I'm only doing this to protect you..."

"Then protect me by trusting me."

Daemon stayed on the ground as a few startled priests and maids rushed to his side. He waved them off. A quiet pulse of golden light flowed from his hand, knitting his bruised flesh and closing his wounds.

Zaria froze.

"What... divine energy?" she whispered.

Her confusion turned to alarm. A demon king with divine energy?

Daemon stood, brushing the dust from his cloak. His voice was cold but calm.

"Next time you swing at someone," he said, "make sure they're actually your enemy."

Zaria's wings trembled.

Gabriel stepped beside him. "Let's move on. We came for peace. Don't make me regret it."

Zaria glanced between Daemon and Gabriel. The way they were both staring at her—like she was an annoying fly buzzing too close to their food—made her lip tremble.

Then she burst into tears.

Not just any tears. Golden, glowing droplets streamed down her cheeks as she wailed loud enough to shake the marble pillars.

"Waaah! M-Micheal hates me because of the Demon King!"

Daemon blinked, startled. She's... crying? He looked to Gabriel.

His brother was already massaging his temples, looking like this wasn't his first encounter with Zaria's divine meltdowns.

So this was the "rude" angel Gabriel mentioned. Not some holy warrior of judgment, but a spoiled celestial with the emotional control of a toddler.

Daemon took a step back as her sobs grew louder.

She's gorgeous, he admitted silently. Golden hair. Bright blue eyes. Body sculpted like a goddess. But her mind? Definitely five years old. Maybe it was because angels were "pure"—but this was too pure.

Gabriel finally snapped. "Okay! That's ENOUGH. Stop crying, Zaria!"

Zaria wailed harder.

Maids scurried into the hallway, heads peeking in. Paladins paused mid-prayer. Priests exchanged worried glances.

The saintess

bowed quickly. "Your Highness, apologies. It's my fault! We were playing tag when she suddenly sensed something—your energy, I assume."

Daemon turned, recognizing the voice.

Lilac.

She stepped into view slowly, head bowed. Her golden hair flowed longer now than before, nearly touching her waist. The same haunted eyes met his for only a moment.

"It's okay," Gabriel said gently. "But next time, try to rein her in a little faster."

"I'm… sorry, Prince Daemon," Lilac said softly, voice tight behind a forced smile. "I didn't expect I'd see you again so soon."

Daemon gave a polite smile, but his eyes flicked to the side of her ear—hidden beneath that curtain of hair. So that's why she grew it out… He remembered what he'd done. What he took. That scar was probably still there.

"I missed you too, Saintess," he said, his tone light.

Lilac's lips twitched. The smile she tried to hold collapsed, trembling like it couldn't decide whether to stay or shatter.

Daemon spoke softly. "Now that we've met again… I'd love to have tea with you. It's been a while."

Lilac stiffened.

"I'd be honored," she replied quickly, voice tight.

But inside, she could barely breathe.

The boy who ruined me… wants tea?

Daemon's grin widened. "Then it's settled."

Behind them, Zaria's sobs had faded to quiet sniffles. She now sat cross-legged on the marble floor like a pouting child, wings drooped, rubbing her golden eyes.

Gabriel glanced at Daemon, deadpan. "You're seriously staying for tea after all that?"

Daemon folded his arms, amused. "Of course. I'm feeling nostalgic."

Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine. I'll go check in with the High Priest. Try not to get punched through another wall while I'm gone."

Daemon smirked. "No promises."

Gabriel turned and walked off down the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the stone.

Lilac didn't move. She just stood there, forcing herself to smile—while her hands trembled at her sides.

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