Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 421: Artemis

The goddess's breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling with effort. The roots around her seemed to hesitate, as if the very domain of the forest no longer recognized her as its mistress. But even fallen, covered in blood and dust, she kept her eyes fixed on Strax with a flicker of pride.

He crouched beside her, his eyes still glowing a fierce red, like embers on the verge of consuming everything.

"You talked about hunting," he said, his voice low, hoarse, laced with restrained venom. "And judging by the theatrical flair... you must be Artemis, right?"

She remained silent.

"Are you siding with that son of a bitch Zeus?"

Still nothing. A trickle of blood slid from the corner of her mouth, but she kept her head held high, her eyes shining with silent disdain.

Strax clenched his jaw. The heat around him intensified... the forest, though shattered, seemed to shudder. Tiamat, at a safe distance, took a step back, her hand slowly shifting into dragon claws—not because of Artemis, but because of Strax.

"I asked you something," he said, now with a voice like smothered thunder. "Are you with Zeus?"

Nothing.

Strax closed his eyes for a second... then opened them.

The red was gone.

In its place, an abyss.

His eyes were now black with crimson rings slowly rotating in the center—like gears forged in hell. Then he raised his hand.

He snapped.

A sharp, brutal crack. The sound echoed like a whip, making the runes in the clearing flare red and the air vibrate with raw electricity. Artemis's head snapped to the side from the impact, blood splattering onto the dry earth.

She gasped. She didn't scream. But her shoulders trembled.

Strax leaned closer. So close his heat began to burn her skin. His breath was fire, and his expression, a verdict.

"Speak the fuck up," he growled, each syllable heavy as molten iron. "I'm not putting up with this after you attacked me. Do you understand who you're dealing with?"

The words left his mouth with a tone that was no longer human.

"I will kill you if you keep denying. I don't give a damn if you're a goddess. I don't care about your title, your temples, your worshipers. I will tear the answers from your throat."

He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, blood trailing from her lower lip. Artemis's eyes still held a glimmer—but now it was fear. Not panic, but something deeper. A primal instinct that whispered: This is not a mortal. This is not a god. This is something that should have been forgotten.

"Are you with that fucking Zeus?"

Silence.

She hesitated.

Her voice came out weak, trembling, like a broken arrow:

"...no."

Strax blinked slowly. The aura around him pulsed, dimming slightly.

"Then why the fuck did you attack me?"

"Because... you look like him," Artemis spat, still trying to gather the shattered fragments of her pride. "The same stench... of unrestrained power. The same gaze—of a predator without morals. Damn you, Artorias."

Strax remained silent for a moment. His eyes, once a living furnace, turned briefly into a dull mist, as if the name stirred ancient and dangerous echoes within him.

He let out a deep breath, like someone pushing away an invisible weight, and stood up. Without looking at her, he turned to Tiamat and Ouroboros.

"She's useless. Leave her," he said, his tone dry, almost indifferent, as if discarding a broken object. "Let's get back to what we were doing. The Ruins of the Spirit Dwelling still hold answers."

He took a step away. Then another.

But then — like a dagger thrown into the heart of silence — he felt it.

The killing intent struck his back like an invisible spear: hot, hungry, dense enough to make the air vibrate. He turned instinctively, Artorias's blade already in his hand — a lethal flash cutting through the space between them.

CLANG.

The sword stopped right at Artemis's neck — the edge grazing her skin, enough to split the flesh and let a thin trickle of blood slide down her pale throat.

Strax didn't move.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His voice was like stone dragged across iron — calm, but with the looming threat of a catastrophic storm buried just beneath the surface.

But she didn't back down.

Artemis's killing intent surged instead of fading — now a storm trapped inside a wounded body, her eyes glowing with ancient fury and a spark… of sacred terror.

"Where did you get that sword?" she whispered, but every syllable carried the weight of buried ages.

Strax narrowed his eyes.

And then — it happened.

Her body trembled.

As if thousands of invisible chains shattered all at once, Artemis's power exploded in waves of pure divine force — no longer contained, no longer sealed. Her muscles tensed, her flesh regenerated, and her eyes became blazing green pits. The runes etched in her skin ignited, ancient markings flaring to life, breaking seals that had been placed there... by herself.

The ground caved beneath her feet.

The forest recoiled — literally. Trees twisted away as if repelled by her very presence.

"You shouldn't have that weapon." Artemis's voice reverberated like thunder from the earth's core. "It was his. And he... he would never let it fall into anyone's hands."

Strax didn't flinch. He pressed the blade firmer against her neck, its edge a silent promise.

"Artorias gave it to me."

Artemis's eyes narrowed. Something flickered in them — rage, disbelief... or perhaps a buried fear struggling to rise.

"You really have no idea what you're carrying..." Artemis whispered. "That sword isn't just a weapon. It's a key. And if it's in your hands—"

"Shut the fuck up." Strax's voice cut through like cold steel. His eyes burned with a fury teetering on the edge of irreversible wrath.

He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, his voice now a venomous blend of contempt and barely restrained frustration.

"You think I'm out here swinging legendary steel for fun? I know this sword is more than it seems. I feel what it carries. And if I'm digging this deep, it's because I want answers — not riddles from a broken goddess."

The pressure of the blade increased. Another thin line of blood trickled down.

"So instead of spewing half-truths like some delirious priestess, try using that millennia-old brain of yours and tell me how the fuck I use this thing to bring back the Spirit Realm."

Strax's eyes were wide, but cold — like frozen blades. Every word felt like it could turn into steel cutting through flesh.

"You want to keep playing the enigma, the wounded relic? Fine. But next time you open your mouth without giving me what I want, I won't stop at your neck."

Silence dropped like a stone.

Artemis remained still.

Blood slid in a timid line down her throat, but her eyes were locked on the blade — not out of fear, but memory. Something she dared not name.

Strax held the stare for a few more seconds, until her labored breathing began to slow. The tension didn't leave — it hung in the air like dust after a collapse.

Then, without warning, he stood.

With a sharp twist of the wrist, Strax sheathed the blade. The sound of steel sliding into its scabbard rang out like the closing of a final sentence.

He turned his back without another word.

Tiamat approached, eyes still on the fallen goddess, her expression grim — the look of someone who knew this confrontation had unearthed more questions than answers.

Ouroboros followed in silence, her steps light and subtle — but her gaze never left Artemis, who now simply watched them go like a cornered beast, too wounded to fight, too proud to flee.

"She's going to try again," Ouroboros said, breaking the silence only once they were dozens of meters away, entering the path that led to the Spirit Dwelling.

"Let her," Strax muttered, not even glancing over his shoulder. "She's going to come after us either way. She's curious… and curiosity always has a price."

Tiamat walked beside him, arms crossed, her claws slowly shifting back to their original form. There was caution in her eyes — and a simmering frustration.

"She knows too much. Maybe it would've been wiser to rip the truth out now, instead of waiting for her to decide when it's convenient to talk."

Strax paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the mutilated forest ahead. The trees, stubborn as ever, were trying to stand again. Life was returning — even after all the violence they'd seen.

"She'll follow us. Maybe she thinks she's deceiving us. But the truth is... she's just as lost as we are when it comes to this damn sword." He exhaled. "And she will give up what she knows. Sooner or later. Women are like that… When they get too curious, they end up betraying themselves."

Ouroboros raised an eyebrow and puffed out her chest, mockingly offended. "I feel personally attacked."

She shot Strax a theatrical glance, the golden glint in her eyes sparking with humor. "I'm not like that, okay? When I get curious, I don't peek through the door. I just blow the fucking thing open."

Strax arched the corner of his mouth in something that could almost be called a smile. Almost.

"That's why I married you."