Royal Bastard's Bloodstained Regression-Chapter 95: Magefire vs. Blood

Captain Timothy's eyes widened in disbelief as the corpses of his mages hit the ground one by one.

Blood soaked the grass. Limbs twitched. Heads rolled. The air was thick with smoke and severed screams.

"You... monsters..." he muttered, teeth grinding. Then, with a roar—"DIE!"

He hurled a thunderbolt, but Daemon didn't flinch. He stepped forward and punched the air, his aura erupting in a wave that shattered the spell mid-flight and sent the lightning veering harmlessly into the dirt.

"You should've run," Daemon said coldly.

WHOOSH!

A volley of elemental spells shot toward them—flames, ice shards, and wind blades flying from every corner.

The remaining guards had regrouped, and they weren't holding back.

Varian's eyes burned.

"Finally," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Time to shut these cowards up."

He charged into the wave of magic, aura flaring like a wildfire. A fireball grazed his side—but he didn't care. He grabbed the nearest mage by the throat, lifted him off the ground—

—and ripped his arm clean off.

The guard's scream was cut short as Varian smashed his skull against the stone wall like a hammer to glass.

A lightning user tried to cast from behind—

CRUNCH!

Varian slammed his foot down on the man's chest, caving it in.

He looked up, blood splattered across his face, grinning like a devil. "Is that all you've got?!"

Above, a chorus of screeches split the sky.

Griffins.

Six of them, descending fast each ridden by battle-hardened mages hurling spells from above.

Daemon didn't look up.

"Nyxtriel," he said.

She was already moving.

Her body shifted, swirling into her sword form and streaking into the sky like a silver comet.

SHING—SLASH—BOOM!

In seconds, two griffins were cut clean in half mid-flight, blood and feathers exploding across the treetops.

A third dived for Daemon but Nyxtriel intercepted, flying straight through its rider before arcing back and slicing the beast's wing off. The griffin crashed into the jungle in a fireball of feathers and flame.

Back on the ground, Captain Timothy screamed, "FORM A CIRCLE—BIND THEM WITH SEALS!"

A dozen guards moved at once, hands glowing with binding glyphs. Chains of light shot forward—

Daemon lunged straight through them.

CRACK!

He drove his fist into a guard's ribcage, shattering it inward.

SLAM!

He grabbed another by the throat and threw him into the others bones snapped on impact.

One managed to cast a barrier, only to be crushed under Varian's foot, who stomped him into the ground with a feral yell.

"Is this all your 'elite' has to offer?" Varian taunted, eyes blazing. "I expected a war not a slaughter."

A final griffin dove low, aiming for Daemon—

But Nyxtriel came down like a divine sword, spinning in midair before slamming through its skull, embedding herself into the earth in front of Daemon with a wet THUD.

He pulled her from the ground without looking.

Timothy stumbled back, blood on his face, fury in his eyes. "You monsters... you don't belong in this world."

Daemon stepped over a dying mage, not slowing.

"I never said I did."

Blood covered the battlefield. The jungle trembled with magic and shattered aura.

Captain Timothy staggered back, face smeared with dirt and blood—but his eyes gleamed with manic defiance.

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, red artifact shaped like a firecracker.

Daemon's eyes narrowed.

"Shit," he muttered.

CRACK!

Timothy snapped the artifact in half.

A blinding red flare exploded into the sky, whistling like a scream. The signal shot upward in a spiral, igniting into a firework of red light above the treeline.

Backup.

From the prison.

Daemon could already feel the distant surging of mana signatures—dozens of guards responding, their magical energy lighting up the horizon like stars coming alive.

"Haha!" Timothy laughed, lips bloodied. "It's too late! The more you fight, the more you'll drain yourselves. They'll wear you down, and then you'll die—one by one!"

He turned to stall for time, but Daemon wasn't listening.

His mind was racing.

They couldn't escape to the boat. Not now.

The sea was a death trap—the Kraken would sense them the moment they hit the water.

They couldn't outrun a full battalion of mages, either. Not without burning every last drop of aura.

And swallowing the fragment now, while his body was still unstable—it might kill him.

No. He needed another way.

He clenched his fist, then turned.

"Nyxtriel!"

A flash of silver cut through the sky as Nyxtriel returned, reforming mid-air before landing in his grasp. Daemon caught her handle, gripping it tight.

"I'll clear the path," he said coldly.

Then he bent his knees, and his aura exploded.

BOOOOM!

He channeled everything—his rage, his power, his demonic force—into his legs. The ground shattered under him. A shockwave surged outward, hurling Timothy and Varian backward like ragdolls.

Timothy slammed into a tree with a grunt.

Varian skidded across the dirt, coughing.

From behind a nearby trunk, Rhea watched, wide-eyed. As Timothy and Varian recovered and fled toward the prison, she followed—desperate to understand what Daemon was planning.

Because he wasn't running.

He was rising.

Daemon soared into the air, wind screaming past him. He raised Nyxtriel with both hands. Her blade pulsed, expanded, and began to glow with raw black-red energy, doubling, tripling in size.

The same strike he use to kill innocent citizens when he confront Duke Elias.

Daemon's grip tightened.

The sky darkened.

Prisoners and guards near the jungle edge—just now arriving—froze as they looked up.

A shadow fell over them.

They screamed.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

"IT'S A—IT'S A DAMNED SWORD!"

"RUN!!"

The sword fell.

Some prisoners didn't make it in time—screams rose as they were burned alive, their bodies consumed by black-red energy mid-sprint.

Others managed to escape just in time, scattering like ants, the ground splitting open behind them. They left a wide gap beneath the falling blade.

A weapon of judgment, fire, and ruin.

Daemon brought it down.

BOOOOOOM!

The ground erupted.

The force split the prison entrance and outer sector clean in half. A shockwave tore across the jungle, ripping trees from the earth, blasting bodies into the air. Rock shattered. Magic barriers crumbled.

Some soldiers died instantly. Others were flung into walls or slammed into debris. Fires broke out everywhere.

Timothy, watching from a distance, stumbled as the blast hit. He caught himself, staring at the ruins, at the fire, at the crater where structure used to be.

His hand trembled—bleeding, broken.

He turned to Nyxtriel, still hovering near Daemon. His voice cracked with fury.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

But all around them, voices rose from the smoke.

"WE'RE FREE!!"

The surviving prisoners surged forward, rushing for the broken fences and shattered watchposts.

Chaos erupted as guards scrambled to cast containment spells—light and fire lashing out, cutting down inmates mid-run.

A war had begun—not between nations, but between the forgotten and the oppressors.

Prisoners tackled guards. Magic exploded. Screams, fire, and blood filled the air.

Nyxtriel landed beside Daemon, shifting into her human form in a shimmer of silver light. Her eyes glowed, a smirk playing on her lips.

"That was clever."

Daemon's hands trembled. His body was still shaking from the overload of aura.

"Yeah... but now we need to move. This is just a distraction."

He turned—but a voice rang out from behind.

"Nyxtriel!"

Nyxtriel turned slowly.

Rhea.

She was panting, her blade drawn, eyes locked on her former teammate.

"Stop right there!" Rhea shouted, but her voice wavered.

Nyxtriel's killing intent exploded. The air grew cold.

Rhea hesitated—just for a second. Her mind flashed back to earlier, when Timothy promised her a promotion... more power... if she could capture one of the traitors.

She tried to speak. "Look—"

SHLICK.

Too late.

Nyxtriel blurred forward and sliced her head clean off.

Rhea's head hit the ground with a thud. Her body collapsed. Nyxtriel calmly raised her foot and stomped it, crushing the skull without a word.

She turned back, hair flowing, eyes blazing.

"Let's go, my lord."

Daemon didn't hesitate.

But as they turned to flee, the ground rumbled beneath their feet.

The very island trembled.

Behind them, smoke and flame climbed into the sky.

Varian looked back, eyes wide. "What is that...?"