"You guys can handle your own mission. We don't need you here," Daemon said bluntly, eyes locked on the leader of the Demon Slayer squad.
"What did you just—"
"Watch your tone when speaking to my lord," one of the Hashiras said coldly.
"This bastard—!"
"Okay, children, let's not get worked up. Our guests have come a long way to help us; the least we can do is let them rest," Kagaya Ubuyashiki said softly, his voice calm yet commanding.
With that, the Hashiras went silent. After casting a few lingering glares, they turned and left.
"I apologize for their rudeness," Kagaya continued, turning back to Daemon. "They are still young and fiercely loyal to me. I hope—"
"I don't mind. You can go now," Daemon cut in flatly.
Kagaya gave a small bow and exited gracefully, unfazed by the impolite dismissal.
Just then, Kasumigaoka Utaha's expression shifted—subtle, but Daemon noticed. Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark.
And then—time stopped.
Buzz.
Silence. Stillness. Not even a whisper of wind.
Utaha had invoked the power of time stop—so strong that not even Jibril or Daemon could resist it.
Of course, freezing time wasn't for combat. Even now, with her absurdly increased power, she couldn't hope to break their defenses.
Jibril could withstand direct hydrogen bomb blasts without flinching. Daemon—though more offense-oriented—had fused with an enhanced sage body. His regeneration and durability grew stronger by the second.
So no, Utaha wasn't looking to attack. She just had something else in mind.
In the frozen world, she walked over and gently tapped Daemon's leg with the tip of her foot. Then—
Time resumed.
Daemon blinked.
"…Weird. That felt strange."
Jibril narrowed her eyes. "Something just changed," she said, instinctively sensing the anomaly. But she couldn't quite place it.
Daemon glanced down at his leg, still faintly warm where she'd touched him. He looked up just in time to catch Utaha winking at him—subtle, sly.
Daemon raised a brow, but didn't comment.
"You wait outside, Jibril," he said calmly.
"Eh? Why?" she asked, tilting her head.
"You know why."
Daemon smirked. Jibril's obliviousness made his eye twitch.
"…Ah, I see," Jibril said after a beat, glancing at Utaha, whose cheeks were burning red. Then back at Daemon. "So you two are going to…?"
"Exactly," he replied flatly. "Now shoo."
"No way!" Jibril huffed. "This room was assigned to me too! Why should I leave just for your… mating rituals?"
Daemon rubbed his temples. "Can't you see Utaha's embarrassed? Don't you have any tact?"
"There's no need to be embarrassed!" Jibril floated above, arms crossed. "I'm a Flugel! You're humans! What's the big deal?"
"You're not helping," Utaha muttered, glaring at her.
"And besides!" Jibril grinned, hovering closer. "What's the harm in me watching? It's purely for… cultural research!"
"Cultural—?!" Utaha's face went bright red.
"You're ridiculous! You're practically human yourself! You speak our language, look human—wings don't make you an animal!"
"It's all the same to me~" Jibril sang, clearly enjoying this.
"Fine," Utaha snapped, fuming now. "You want to watch? Then enjoy the show."
Before anyone could respond, Utaha activated her Devil Fruit ability. Her body shifted, morphed, and in seconds, she transformed into a sleek pink dragon—glowing, majestic, and intimidating.
"…What the hell?!" Jibril gawked. "I wanted to see humans! Not dragon cosplay!"
"No take-backs now," the dragoness smirked, coiling around Daemon like a predator toying with its prey.
Daemon sighed internally. Again with the dragon form? I was hoping to try something new this time…
Nearly 20 hours later…
The room was a mess.
Daemon sat up, stretching his arms with a refreshed expression.
"I feel amazing," he muttered, glancing at the exhausted pink dragon lying beside him, her energy completely drained. "You really can't take a hit, can you?"
Across the room, Jibril was frozen—visibly shaken.
She looked at him like she'd just witnessed the collapse of reality itself.
"Wh-what did I just watch…?" she stammered.
"That wasn't biology. That was… psychological horror. I'm scarred for life."
Daemon looked at her, amused.
"You're the one who wanted to watch."
"I take it back!" she cried. "That wasn't cultural research—that was nightmare fuel! You—you did things to a dragon! A dragon!"
Daemon shrugged.
Jibril stared in silence, trembling slightly.
…If he could do that to a dragon, what chance does a Flugel like me have?
The thought made her shudder.
--------------------------------------
Support me at patreon.com/Arthorain and read upto 50 Advanced Chapters!