Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 417: Do you want to become a demon?

"Let's go somewhere where no one will interfere," Strax smiled.

The light around him began to pulse more intensely, and Queen Frieren's silhouette wavered, as if the space around her was bending. His mana, neutral and unlimited, began to rise even more - not aggressively, but envelopingly, absorbing the environment as if dissolving the boundaries between matter, spirit and time.

The floor disappeared. The walls disappeared. The roots of the great tree ceased to take shape. The palace disappeared completely.

Everything became a golden-white, ethereal sea, where only the two of them remained - two consciousnesses floating in a dimension created by Strax's will. A realm where nothing could interfere, neither time nor the gods.

Frieren, still in her spectral form, looked around in amazement. Her translucent body trembled with a kind of reverence.

"...You created... this... with your own mana?" His voice was a whisper that rang out in all directions.

Strax crossed his arms, his eyes shining with absolute clarity. "I needed silence. And your attention. Here... you won't be drained and you won't be focused on Evelyn passed out. Here, you can speak freely."

The Elf Queen watched him for a long moment. There was infinite wisdom in her gaze, but also a silent pain, as deep as the roots of the world.

"I... have no more than a week," she said at last. "The thread that connects me to the earth is almost broken. If it's not for me, the continent will fall. But if I go on... Evelyn will be swept away too. It's too late."

Strax shook his head. "No. It's not time for the Queen of the Elves to fall. Not now."

She closed her eyes, with a small melancholy smile. "You're kind... but foolish. Even time grows weary. And it's been too long that I've been drained, my vital energy is on the verge of running out..."

"How much negativity" Strax said as he withdrew his sword.

The blade that sealed all the spirits in the world... a blade that had the entire spirit realm sealed within it. Frieren's eyes widened as she felt the enormous pressure of the weapon. She took a step forward, almost in shock.

"That sword... that's the Sword of... The Sword that destroyed the Spiritual Realm... I know it... from the time he walked this world... How do you have it... How did you get the weapon from Artorias, the God of the Sword?"

Strax planted his feet on that golden nothingness, pointing his sword at the void between them. "So you know my ancestor, that helps a lot."

The sword floated before them, radiating a power so pure and heavy that even the golden void of Strax's domain seemed to bow in reverence. Frieren took another step forward, his eyes wide - not with fear, but with ancestral reverence, like someone rediscovering a forgotten legend.

"That blade... it carries the weight of many souls. The very essence of ancient spirits is trapped within it." He commented, merely repeating what Artorias had told him. "Artorias didn't create it, he contained it. Inside it is the Spirit Realm... or what's left of it." Strax slowly turned the sword in his hand.

"Is there a way to use this sword to return the Abode of Spirits? I don't understand how it works - not yet. But if we had to destroy it... what would happen? Would it be safe? Would the spirits be freed or would they be lost for good?"

Frieren remained silent for a few seconds, her expression becoming dark and thoughtful. She reached out, as if to touch something invisible around the blade, and her voice came low, laden with ancient memories.

"If you destroy it... the energy contained within will be released chaotically. It's not just a seal, Strax. It's a prison. A prison with walls that are made of the blade itself. Destroying the sword can free the spirits, yes... but they will be disoriented, fragmented. Some will be lost between worlds. Others will go mad. And the oldest... may never wake up."

She looked into Strax's red eyes with a serene plea.

"And many of these spirits have already accepted their imprisonment. Because the world... has changed. The Abode of the Spirits as it existed... cannot simply be restored. It has been absorbed into the cycle of life. Recreating their home would require something greater than simply breaking a weapon."

Strax frowned, his gaze fixed on the gleaming blade. "Then tell me how to do it right."

Frieren watched him carefully, and then, with a graceful gesture, sat down on the void as if the domain itself had shaped a surface for her.

"You need to rebalance the essence of the sword. It is an interrupted cycle. It was once a path. Artorias sealed it to prevent the spirit world from swallowing up the mortal world, but it needn't have been like that. The two worlds can coexist - if someone is the link."

Strax raised an eyebrow. "A link?"

"You. A dragon with neutral mana. Neither spirit nor mortal. A being whose presence doesn't destabilize the planes of existence. If you become the new pillar - the new path - the sword can be rebalanced. Not destroyed... purified."

Strax looked at the sword once more. The voices inside it seemed to whisper more clearly now. There wasn't just shouting and chaos - there were echoes of melodies, of words long forgotten.

"So I become... what? A new seal? A guardian?"

Frieren shook his head slightly, his eyes serious.

"No. You would become the new Kingdom. A melting point. A being through whom spirits could once again touch the world... without unbalancing it. But that will require something of you. Something greater than strength."

Strax remained silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of his words. Then he looked up, his voice firm:

"And what is the price?"

She looked at him with a wistful expression.

"You'll never be just of this world again, Strax. Part of you will always live among the spirits. You'll be a bridge... but never home again."

The silence that followed was dense, almost sacred - as if even time itself was holding its breath.

Strax stared at the sword, then raised his eyes to Frieren. The golden light around him seemed to vibrate with a new intensity, reflecting the steadiness in his gaze. His shoulders didn't waver, his presence was as solid as a mountain.

"If that's what it takes..." he said calmly.

Frieren's eyes widened in shock.

"Are you... going to take that risk?" she exclaimed, her voice shaking with disbelief. "You're going to throw yourself into one possibility out of thousands?"

She took a step forward, her expression pained. "Do you even understand what you're offering? You're about to abandon your very essence - for something that might fail!"

Strax remained motionless, as if already beyond fear. His answer was simple, but loaded with conviction:

"Yes. Because if no one takes the risk, nothing will change." Strax spoke with a disconcerting serenity, as if he wasn't about to give away part of his soul.

Frieren hesitated. His lips parted, and his voice came out in a trembling whisper: "But... all this for..."

"All this is my way of repaying what your daughter did for me," he interrupted, his tone firmer. "Besides... walking around with that damn time bomb in my hand doesn't do me any good."

Frieren frowned. "Time bomb...?"

Strax ran a hand over his face, visibly irritated, exhausted. "If I can free the spirits that are trapped inside that sword... maybe it'll go back to being just a weapon. Something I can use without fear. But now..." he raised the sword, which pulsed softly, "this thing is eating me from the inside."

Frieren watched him with growing concern. "What do you mean?"

Strax looked directly at her, his eyes shining with a deep weariness.

"There are over a million voices in my head every time I touch that sword. Shouting. Whispering. Crying. Praying. Wailing." He gripped the handle tighter. "I'm going mad, Frieren. And I'm tired. I just want to get it out of here. Get it over with."

Frieren lowered her eyes, thoughtful. The soft glow of the golden domain swirled around them like a breathing ocean.

"It's going to be hard to do anything in this state," she said, her voice weaker now, as if time itself were pulling her away. "You're carrying more than you should, and I... I'm almost done. Even here, in this space beyond the gods, I keep disappearing."

She looked up at him, serene but with an inescapable sadness.

"You need to go to the old Abode of the Spirits. The scriptures are still there... or what's left of them. Perhaps you can better understand the nature of the sword, or even find a way to rebuild the path that was lost. But I... I can't go with you."

Strax watched her in silence for a moment, then spoke - directly, without hesitation.

"You want to become a demon?"

Frieren blinked, confused. "What?"

"You're going to die. And I... I can stop that. I can give you a new form, a new life. You'd have to give up your nature, but you'd gain time. Eternal life, if you like."

He looked at her seriously. "I have the power to do that."

The silence that followed was piercing. Frieren looked at him as if she were facing an ancient temptation. A choice he never wanted to have to make.

"Do you want me to become a demon...?" She repeated, slowly, as if testing the bitter taste of the words. "That I abandon everything I am, everything I stood for, for more millennia of artificial existence?"

Strax didn't answer immediately. He let the question hang, heavy, inevitable. Then, with a sigh, he added:

"I'm not offering you corruption. I'm offering you continuity. A chance to help what you yourself say can still be saved."

Frieren looked away, fighting thoughts that she had never allowed to flourish.

"If I accepted that..." she muttered, "I wouldn't be an elf anymore. Or queen. I'd be an aberration - in the eyes of my ancestors, and the spirits I respect so much."

Strax shrugged, his voice low but firm:

"Maybe. Or maybe she'd be the only one with the courage to keep fighting... even if it costs her old form."

The domain around them seemed to tighten, as if time were bowing to the weight of that choice.

"Think calmly," he added. "You have a week. But if you want to live... I can give you that chance."