Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 823: Scathach and his truth

Strax walked through the mansion’s doors with firm steps, neither speeding up nor slowing down, like someone who already knew exactly what he would find outside and yet chose to face it head-on without hesitation, his hands resting in his trouser pockets in a casual gesture that contrasted with the tension filling the air around him, an invisible pressure that made the space itself seem denser, heavier, as if the world were preparing for something that could easily spiral out of control at any moment.

The garden of Asgard, which just hours before had been intact, now bore the evident marks of a colossal impact, the earth cracked open in deep fissures, pieces of stone scattered as if they were insignificant, and in the center of that destroyed scene, the gigantic figure of a red dragon dominated the space with a presence that could not be ignored, its wings partially open, its body still emanating heat as if it were a living furnace, and its eyes... its eyes carried something that did not match the size, nor the power that that creature represented. Strax didn’t stop immediately upon seeing her; he continued walking, each step calculated, observing as the colossal body began to change, the scales retracting, the size gradually decreasing, the monstrous form giving way to something more familiar, something human, and yet, even in the transformation, that presence didn’t disappear, it only concentrated, condensed into a smaller form, but no less intense.

He let out a low, almost imperceptible sigh, already imagining what would come next, because he knew that energy, he knew that presence, and more than that, he knew the person behind it, even if what existed there now wasn’t exactly the same as he remembered, or perhaps it was, but carrying a much greater weight than before.

When he finally stopped, he was already a few meters away.

And then, the transformation ended.

Where there had once been a colossal dragon, now there was a woman.

Scathach.

The contrast was almost absurd, the destruction all around and her figure at the center of it all, seemingly fragile compared to what she had been seconds before, yet still carrying a presence that could not be ignored, her long hair falling down her back in waves that reached almost to the end of her body, moving lightly with the wind, her body sculpted with a perfection bordering on the unreal, well-defined curves, a naturally elegant posture, a beauty that would easily draw attention anywhere. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

But that wasn’t what held the gaze.

It was her eyes.

There was no sparkle.

There was no arrogance.

There was none of that provocative air that usually accompanied her.

Just... emptiness.

A heavy emptiness, as if something inside her had been broken and had not yet been rebuilt, as if the weight of her own actions had finally reached a point where it could no longer be ignored.

She saw him.

And at the exact moment their eyes met...

She didn’t hold his gaze.

Her head lowered.

Without hesitation.

Without pride.

Without any attempt to maintain composure.

Her body moved immediately afterward, slowly lowering until her knees touched the ground, the earth still marked by the impact raising a little dust around, but she didn’t care, there was no care, no concern for appearance, just a direct action, charged with something that went far beyond words.

And then...

She leaned even further.

Until her forehead touched the ground.

A gesture of submission.

A gesture of regret.

A gesture that, coming from her, seemed almost impossible to believe.

"I’m sorry. Please forgive me."

Her voice came out low, almost faltering, not from weakness, but from weight, from carrying something that couldn’t simply be said without leaving marks, and yet, she said it, without trying to soften it, without trying to justify it, just delivering those words in the rawest way possible.

The silence that followed was dense.

The kind of silence that didn’t need sound to say everything.

Strax didn’t move immediately.

He stood there, observing.

His gaze fixed on her.

Analyzing.

Not her appearance.

But her state.

Because that...

It wasn’t acting.

It wasn’t manipulation.

It was real.

And that made everything more complicated.

The wind passed between them, slightly lifting her hair, but she didn’t move, didn’t raise her head, didn’t try to look at him again, as if she didn’t have the right to do so, as if she were waiting for any reaction, any answer, even if it was rejection.

And perhaps that was exactly what she had hoped for.

Because it would be easier.

Simpler.

If he rejected her.

If he said there was no forgiveness.

If he sent her away.

But he didn’t.

Not yet.

Strax tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her as he processed it, as he organized thoughts that weren’t simple, because it wasn’t just anger, or just disappointment, it was more than that, it involved the past, choices, consequences, and everything that had been built up to that point.

He took a step forward.

The ground beneath his feet yielded slightly, still unstable from the previous impact, but he ignored it, moving a little closer until he was near enough for her presence to be even more evident, even in that state.

And yet...

She didn’t move.

She remained there.

On her knees.

Forehead on the ground.

Waiting.

The silence stretched again, heavier this time, as if each second were longer than the last, as if the world itself were awaiting the answer that would follow.

Strax let out a low sigh.

Slowly.

And then he spoke.

"You seemed too proud to do something like this, what changed?" His voice carried no aggression.

Nor sarcasm.

Just observation.

Fact.

Scathach didn’t respond immediately, but her body trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if those words had struck something deeper than any attack could reach.

"I know, I’m a terrible mother," she replied, still without lifting her head, her voice firmer this time, but still heavy with something. "And that’s why I’m here like this. And I’ll continue until you forgive me."

Strax watched in silence.

And then he took another step.

Now, he was directly in front of her.

Close enough to close the distance that had previously seemed so great.

But still...

He didn’t touch her.

Not yet.

"You know what you did," he continued, his tone calm but firm. "You know exactly what you caused."

She nodded slightly against the ground.

"I know."

A single word.

No apologies.

No trying to downplay it.

No trying to justify it.

Just accepting it.

And that...

That weighed more than any explanation.

Strax remained silent for a few more seconds, his gaze fixed on her, as if trying to find something, anything that could make it simpler, but there was nothing, because it wasn’t simple, it never had been, and probably never would be.

The wind blew again, stronger this time, raising dust around, making the scene seem even more heavy, more intense, as if everything around reflected exactly what was happening there.

And yet...

She didn’t move.

She didn’t lift her head.

She didn’t try to look at him.

Because, at that moment...

She didn’t think she had that right.

And maybe...

She was right.

Or maybe not.

But that...

Was yet to be decided.

"I will not forgive you," Strax said without remorse. "What you did to me is unacceptable. I never cared about getting stronger using unconventional methods. But putting my wives in unnecessary danger just to get stronger? No, that’s too much."

Scathach remained motionless, his forehead pressed against the cold, uneven floor, as if any movement beyond that gesture would be an affront to the weight he carried within him, and for a few seconds silence settled between them again, thick, almost suffocating, until she finally took a deep breath, like someone gathering courage to say something that should have been said long before.

"It wasn’t because of that."

Her voice came out low, but firm enough to break the quiet.

Strax didn’t answer immediately, but his gaze shifted slightly, his attention turning completely to those words, because there was something in them that didn’t fit the previous context, something that deviated from the simple line of guilt and regret he expected.

"It wasn’t just... guilt, or a mistake, or madness," she continued, still without lifting her head, her fingers pressing down. She lightly touched the ground as if holding on to it. "It was because of that thing inside you... in your mana core... that presence."

Strax narrowed his eyes slightly.

"What?"

"The System."

The air seemed even heavier around them.

Scathach breathed again before continuing, now in a clearer, more direct tone, as if finally organizing thoughts she had kept for too long.

"The System that Hades gave you... or rather... that you believe he gave you," she said, and this time there was a slight tension in her voice. "That doesn’t belong to this world. It never did."

Strax remained silent, but his gaze became sharper, more attentive, like someone who realizes the conversation had just entered completely different territory.

Scathach finally lifted her head.

Slowly.

But she didn’t stand up.

She was still on her knees.

Her eyes met his again, and even with all the weight they carried, there was something different there now.

Seriousness.

"It’s something from another universe," she said, without hesitating this time. "And I know this because I know the person who sent it here."

The silence that followed was not the same as before.

It was no longer just emotional tension.

It was... understanding in progress.

Pieces beginning to fit together.

"When I died," Scathach continued, her gaze distant for a moment, as if revisiting memories that were not easy to access. "I wasn’t simply erased. My consciousness was dragged to the Spirit Realm."

Strax didn’t interrupt.

Not this time.

"That’s where I found... him," she said, and for the first time there was a slight hesitation, not out of doubt, but because of the weight of what it meant. "The entity responsible for sending the System."

The wind passed between them, but neither of them moved.

"Hades... only interfered," she continued. "He used his authority over death to establish a connection with you. But the System... was never his."

Strax remained quiet for a few seconds.

Processing.

Analyzing.

And then...

"Why didn’t you say anything?"

The question was direct.

Without apparent emotion.

But laden with something deeper.

Scathach looked away for a moment, as if that were the hardest part to answer, not for lack of an answer, but because the answer... wasn’t comfortable.

She let out a low sigh.

"Would you believe me?"

Simple.

Direct.

And yet...

Heavy.

Strax didn’t answer immediately.

Because he didn’t need to.

The answer was right there.

Obvious.

Especially considering everything that had happened.

She had been manipulated.

Controlled.

She had lost her own will.

And then she returned.

Changed.

Broken.

If, in that state, she had come to him with a story about systems from other universes and unknown entities...

Would he have believed her?

The answer was clear.

No.

Scathach observed his silence, and a slight, bitter smile appeared on her lips, not of irony, but of acceptance.

"Yeah... that’s what I thought," she murmured, lowering her gaze again. "Even for you, this is too much."

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if accepting that reality without fighting against it.

"I knew that, in that state... anything I said would sound like delirium, an excuse... or manipulation."

Silence returned, but now it was different.

Less hostile.

More... dense.

More aware.

Strax let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair for a moment, clearly reorganizing everything he had just heard, because it changed things... it didn’t erase what happened, but it added layers he couldn’t ignore.

"It doesn’t change what you did," he said finally, his voice firm, but without unnecessary harshness.

Scathach nodded immediately.

"I know."

Without resistance.

Without defense.

Just acceptance.

Strax watched her for a few more seconds.

And then continued.

"But... it explains a lot."

Her eyes lifted slightly, meeting his again, this time with a small spark of something different.

Perhaps... hope.

Small. But present.

"So tell me," he continued, crossing his arms slightly now, his gaze fixed on her. "Who created the System?"