Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression-Chapter 110: Father and Stranger

Gabriel placed a hand on Daemon’s shoulder, a warm gesture on the surface but his aura flickered subtly, probing beneath Daemon’s aura.

"You’ve grown stronger," he said. "Feels like you’re around... eight-star?"

Daemon nodded calmly. "Yes. I am and I see you’ve grown stronger too."

He already knew Gabriel’s power was above his. Just like in their past life.

The gods had always favored Gabriel the blessed twin, the golden boy. Of course his strength would grow faster.

Gabriel smiled. "I had a breakthrough just yesterday finally hit the next rank,9 star."

He laughed casually, but Daemon noticed the glint in his eyes.

As they walked through the palace halls, Gabriel’s tone shifted slightly.

"Speaking of strength... I heard a strange rumor recently," he said. "Something about a small kingdom named Aurelia. Wiped off the map."

Daemon stopped walking.

"Really?" he said flatly. "I did hear that rumor... How did it happen?"

Gabriel hesitated.

For just a breath, he sweat.

"Rumor says it was... a demon’s doing."

Daemon looked forward, expression unreadable.

But inside, he smiled.

Ah. So they do suspect.

Of course they would think it was him. The world knew he was the reincarnation of the Demon King. What else would they assume?

And they weren’t wrong. Not entirely.

Aurelia was dead because of him.

Though technically... their own king had doomed them first.

Daemon exhaled through his nose and gave a half-smile.

"You don’t need to pretend," he said calmly. "I’m sure everyone’s whispering it was my doing, even if I didn’t do anything."

Gabriel blinked, confused.

"I wasn’t even near Aurelia," Daemon continued, his tone smooth and unbothered. "I was in Velmira. On vacation."

Gabriel chuckled, eyes full of ease. "I knew it wasn’t you anyway."

Daemon tilted his head, watching.

Gabriel continued, "Back at the Academy, people were whispering. Gossiping about Aurelia. Saying it had to be you. But I shut them up." He smiled, proud. "I told them: ’My little brother wouldn’t hurt anyone. He doesn’t even have the guts to kill a fly.’"

Daemon’s smile faltered.

He turned his head away slightly, hiding the twitch in his brow.

What the hell is this?

Why is he acting so different?

In his past life, Gabriel had treated him like trash.

Dismissive. Cold. Controlling.

He’d made Daemon train until his hands bled, belittled him behind palace walls.

He was the favorite. The chosen. The golden twin.

But now...

This Gabriel was laughing. Trusting. Smiling like he meant it.

Why the change?

Daemon’s chest tightened. His fists clenched.

"What’s wrong, Daemon?" Gabriel asked, noticing the tension in his face.

Daemon forced a laugh. "Nothing, nothing. Just... you keep calling me little brother."

"Well, you are," Gabriel said with a teasing grin. "Mother told me. I was born first."

Daemon didn’t respond.

Technically what he said it’s the truth,He remembered that day when he regress,Gabriel had been born first but barely. Only by a few minutes.

Daemon’s voice was calm—too calm.

"The truth is... I’ve killed a lot of people. Children. Parents. I absorbed their life force to push past my limits. I didn’t spare anyone. Even an old couple and their son... I burned them alive."

Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat.

His eyes widened, and his hand trembled.

"...What?"

Daemon watched the horror bloom on his brother’s face, the disbelief, the gut-deep recoil.

That’s the expression I wanted to see.

He let the silence sit just long enough—then laughed.

"I’m kidding," he said, voice light, dismissive. "Come on, I’ve been training for two years. You know me, Gabriel. I’d never do something like that."

Gabriel blinked, disoriented—then forced a nervous laugh.

"Hah... Right. You really had me there for a second. I almost thought my little brother had turned into a murderer."

Daemon smiled, expression softening with false sincerity.

"Of course not. I’m not a bad person."

Gabriel relaxed a little, his smile returning. "Well, I’m glad we’re finally talking like this. Honestly... I wish you’d stay. Be by my side. Maybe even as my knight."

Daemon scoffed lightly. "You still haven’t let go of that idea?"

"Of course not," Gabriel said, smiling. "I want to protect this family. And I’m not stupid, Daemon—I saw how you were treated... especially by Mother."

Daemon’s eyes narrowed faintly. That caught him off guard.

He hadn’t expected Gabriel to notice.

"You don’t have to worry about that," Daemon said smoothly. "She’s probably just afraid. You know, the whole ’reincarnation of the Demon King’ thing. It’s natural."

"No," Gabriel snapped, suddenly grabbing Daemon by the shoulders. "Don’t say that. It’s not natural. How can a mother be afraid of her own son?"

His voice cracked with emotion. He looked down, gritting his teeth.

Daemon stared at him for a moment, surprised again by the sincerity.

He looked... angry. Hurt. Protective.

But it didn’t matter.

That kind of warmth was too late.

Too late to undo the damage.

Too late to change what Daemon had become.

"I’m fine, Gabriel," Daemon said quietly. "Don’t worry about me."

Before Gabriel could reply, a butler approached briskly, bowing low.

"Your Highnesses Prince Gabriel. Prince Daemon. His Majesty has requested your presence. The king wishes to speak with you both."

The brothers paused.

They exchanged a look one solemn, one unreadable.

And without another word, they turned and followed.

Daemon followed the butler silently as they ascended the palace’s top floor. The corridor was dim, with velvet curtains drawn tight and tapestries muffling every sound. At the end stood two royal guards flanking a heavy, gold-etched door.

As soon as they saw the two princes approaching, they straightened and opened the door.

One stepped forward.

"Greetings, Your Highnesses. His Majesty has requested to speak with Prince Gabriel first."

Gabriel turned to Daemon with a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"I’ll be quick."

He stepped inside. The doors shut behind him with a deep thud.

Daemon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes steady.

The guards beside him kept stealing glances.

He ignored them.

But his mind wandered.

Gabriel killed him.

In his past life, it had been Gabriel who ended the king’s life—quietly, cleanly. No trial. No rebellion. Just a whispered end. But why? What had their father said to him?

Daemon frowned.

He was still thinking when—

CRASH.

The unmistakable sound of glass shattering echoed from the other side of the door.

One guard turned. "What was that?"

The doors creaked open again this time with urgency.

Gabriel stepped out.

His expression was dark, jaw tight, and his right hand was bleeding slightly small cuts on his knuckles from clenching too hard.

Then he saw Daemon and the mask returned. A warm smile, too practiced to be real.

"Sorry," Gabriel said calmly. "I knocked over a water glass."

The guards glanced at each other but said nothing.

Daemon narrowed his eyes. "Are you alright?"

Gabriel didn’t meet his gaze. "I’m fine. It’s your turn now, brother."

Daemon gave a nod, not because he believed him, but because he was done pretending to care.

He stepped past Gabriel into the king’s chamber.

The room was dim. Heavy curtains cast shadows across ornate furniture and dusty gold trim. A few dying candles flickered on the far wall.

King Aleric lay slumped against a bed of crimson velvet, skin pale, eyes sunken, lips cracked. His breath rattled faintly.

He looked like a ghost clinging to flesh.

Daemon stepped closer. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

The king turned his head slowly, eyes sharp despite the decay.

"Well, if it isn’t my second son... Daemon."

Daemon bowed slightly. "Greetings, Father."

"Come closer."

Daemon obeyed, stepping to the bedside. He sat in the chair left warm by Gabriel, watching the dying man.

King Aurelian studied him in silence.

"Look at you," he rasped. "All grown. Pale. White-haired now. Is that from running, or from hiding?"

Daemon didn’t flinch.

"From surviving."

A faint laugh rasped from the king’s throat.

"Good. That’s the only thing royalty should be good at."

"What happened to you, Father?" Daemon asked. "Two years ago, you were fine. Healthy."

The king exhaled a shallow breath, his voice dry and low.

"An illness. Or maybe..." He looked away. "Maybe it’s the gods punishing me. For what I did."

Daemon frowned. "What do you mean?"

The king was silent for a long time.

Then his gaze shifted toward the floor.

"You heard the crash earlier, didn’t you?"

Daemon followed his line of sight and saw the shattered water glass, the fragments sparkling in the dim candlelight.

"...Yeah. I did."

Aleric nodded slowly, as if that simple confirmation aged him even more.

"Do you resent me, Daemon?"

The question hit harder than it should have. The word resent was simple. The answer—easier.

But Daemon paused.

Would it matter if he said yes?

This man—the King—had been absent from most of his life. A distant shadow more than a father. A puppet ruler wearing pride like armor. He had never spoken to Daemon as a son. Only as a reminder. A replacement. A mistake.

Daemon narrowed his eyes.

"My apologies, Father," he said quietly. "But I don’t know how to answer that."

King Aleric chuckled, the sound hoarse and dry.

"How cold. You can’t tell your father how you feel?"

Daemon looked him in the eye. "That’s because we don’t know each other. You and I—we’ve never had a real conversation until now."

The king didn’t argue.

Instead, he stared at him—longer this time.

"You’re right," he said at last. "But... you really do resemble her."

Daemon’s expression shifted slightly.

"Your mother," Aleric whispered. "Rose."

The name lingered in the air like dust.

Daemon blinked. He hadn’t expected him to say it. That name. That woman. The maid no one dared mention in court.

"She was... warm. Stubborn. Sharp with her tongue," Aleric smiled faintly. "But never unkind."

He stared at Daemon, eyes glassy now. Not from sickness. From memory.

"I see her in your eyes."