Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Strax kept one hand resting on Zi Bai’s hair for several seconds after giving her a name. The change in her was easy to notice. The woman who, only moments earlier, had seemed to support every word with almost rigid care now displayed a different kind of calm, as though she had finally found a stable point to lean on. She was still strong, extremely strong, and the aura she carried still resembled the oppressive presence of the old Apocalypse, but now there was something more human in her posture.

It was not fragility.

It was belonging.

Strax noticed it, released a small breath through his nose, and slowly withdrew his hand, already mentally reorganizing what he needed to do from that point onward.

"I will ask Monica to prepare a room for you," he said in a practical tone, like someone who already considered the decision settled. "If you are going to remain in Asgard for a while, there is no reason to keep improvising."

Zi Bai nodded without hesitation, but did not appear completely satisfied. There was a slight tension in her eyes, as though something still remained unresolved before she could peacefully accept her new stay. She looked at the sword she carried, removed it from her waist, and held it out toward him with complete naturalness, as though handing over a dry branch she had found along the road.

"I want something else first," she said bluntly. "This sword is garbage."

Strax took the weapon, and a slightly closer look was enough for him to conclude that she was not exaggerating.

The sword was terrible in practically every way that mattered. Its balance was crooked, the blade’s structure had been forced through some cheap and crude process, and the handle seemed to have been assembled by someone who had never held a real weapon. There were flaws in the metal, small imperfections along the edge, and an overall sense that the thing should never have survived a serious confrontation, much less the hands of a monstrous cultivator like Zi Bai.

He released a quiet laugh and lightly swung the sword as though confirming a long-held suspicion about the world’s terrible taste.

"You are right," he said. "This really is horrible. I have seen better kitchen knives. I will ask the smiths to make a decent katana for you."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined the blade again.

"Where exactly did you get this?"

Zi Bai looked away for an instant, and that alone was enough for Strax to realize the answer would not be simple. She lifted one hand to her hair in a small gesture, strangely restrained for someone who had crushed nearly every woman in Asgard during a training fight.

"I... took it," she answered.

Then, seeing his expression remain unchanged, she corrected herself with a little more honesty.

"I stole it from some bodies."

Strax slowly turned his face toward her.

"You stole it from corpses."

"It did not look like they needed it anymore," Zi Bai replied with disconcerting sincerity. "Besides, the mountain was full of them."

He remained silent for a moment.

Not from shock, but because there were several parts of that sentence that needed to be reorganized in his head before he chose which one to question first. In the end, he selected the most important.

"What kind of mountain?"

Zi Bai shrugged as though the matter did not deserve so much weight.

"An ordinary mountain. I was isolating myself to cultivate, found a cave, and entered. Beyond the cave there was a valley. A very large valley. It was filled with swords planted everywhere. This one was in a fallen hand near many bodies. Thousands, perhaps. I only took it because it looked less broken than the others."

Strax remained in absolute silence for several seconds, now holding the weapon with greater attention.

The problem was not that Zi Bai had taken a sword from the dead.

The problem was the description.

A cave hiding a valley covered in swords and thousands of corpses was not exactly the sort of place that appeared by coincidence. It could have been sacred territory, an ancient ruin, a forgotten battlefield, a sect cemetery, or any number of other problems hidden within that combination.

He released such a long sigh that Zi Bai tilted her head slightly, watching his reaction with almost cautious attention.

"You truly have a terrifying talent for stumbling into absurd things," Strax murmured, more to himself than to her.

Then he looked at the sword again.

"And I honestly cannot believe you spent so long using this without at least trying to understand why this piece of garbage never snapped in half."

Zi Bai seemed to consider the question for several seconds.

"It never broke."

"That does not make it good."

"But it makes it useful."

"Not at this level of demand," he replied, already beginning to suspect there was more hidden within it than appeared.

The sensation of filth and imperfection remained, but the metal also contained something beneath the surface, something concealed too deeply to be accidental.

Strax raised his free hand, and a white flame appeared between his fingers.

White Fire slowly wrapped around the blade, not in an explosive flare, but in concentrated, violent heat—the kind that devoured matter and separated impurities from what truly mattered.

Zi Bai watched in silence.

She made no attempt to interfere, but her golden eyes followed every small change in the weapon.

The sword began to melt slowly.

First, the edge deformed. Then the guard collapsed, followed by the entire handle dissolving like wax too poor to withstand true heat. Metal ran down in incandescent streams, releasing small sparks and a harsh smell of burned rust, impurities, and suppressed energy.

Within seconds, the crude structure disappeared completely.

What remained was not a pool of useless metal, but a small, smooth, bright, and dense orb floating above Strax’s palm.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Found you."

Zi Bai took one step forward, curious.

"What is that?"

Strax rotated the orb between his fingers, studying its dull reflection and the extremely compressed energy within.

"This is definitely a magical sword," he said quietly. "Someone hid the true core inside a disposable weapon. Either to disguise it or to preserve it until someone compatible could awaken its proper form."

Without warning, he tossed the orb toward Zi Bai.

She caught it in the air by reflex, closing her fingers around the silver sphere almost instantly.

At that exact moment, she felt the energy pulse in response to her touch.

Her eyes widened slightly, and Strax smiled when he noticed the reaction.

"Concentrate your energy," he said. "Not brute force. Do not try to beat it into submission. Just connect."

Zi Bai nodded and closed her eyes.

Her aura changed almost immediately.

Instead of the aggressive presence that had crushed the training field earlier, the energy flowing from her body adopted a more controlled, deep, and refined rhythm.

The orb shone inside her hand.

First came a thread of blue-green light. Then golden outlines appeared around the sphere, as though an invisible structure were gradually being drawn in the air. The energy rotated, stretched, gained shape, and then exploded in a brief, elegant flash.

When the light faded, what rested in Zi Bai’s hands was completely different from the metallic monstrosity she had carried before.

The blade was now long and refined, a soft white color with translucent jade tones running through its center, as though water and ice had been fused into a single body. The edge appeared delicate at first glance, but a second look was enough to perceive the danger contained within the precision of its form.

The hilt was elaborate, with curved golden details embracing the base of the blade, small sea-green stones embedded at strategic points, and a noble finish far too refined for any ordinary sword. Near the guard, organic patterns curved like stylized tides, while a thin dark ornament descended from the pommel, attached to an elegant ring and completing the appearance of a weapon that resembled an ancient relic far more than a crude instrument of war.

It was not a katana.

It was something rarer, more delicate, and yet filled with sharp, absolute danger.

Zi Bai slowly opened her eyes and stared at the sword as though seeing a part of herself that had remained hidden until then.

The weapon vibrated in harmony with her energy, without resistance or hesitation, as though it had finally recognized the wielder it had been waiting for.

She rotated the blade with a short movement, testing its weight, and the air around it was cut so smoothly that there was almost no sound.

The snow accumulated along the edge of the field split into clean lines even though she had not aimed at it directly.

Strax watched in silence for several seconds, satisfied.

"So that was it," he murmured.

Zi Bai took a deep breath, still looking at the weapon.

"It... responds."

"Of course it does. Now you are holding what it truly is."

He moved closer and took the liberty of lightly touching the side of the blade.

"This was not made by an ordinary smith. It has an ancient enchantment, affinity molding, and some kind of recognition seal. Someone important probably died in that valley, or lineage weapons were buried there."

Zi Bai listened, but seemed to absorb everything more through touch than explanation.

"It is beautiful," she finally said in an oddly calm tone. "Much more than I expected."

Strax released a short laugh.

"Compared to that piece of garbage you were using, even a garden shovel would look beautiful."

Zi Bai finally smiled for real.

It was a small smile without any display, but light enough to completely change her expression.

"Then I do not need another sword?"

"Not necessarily," Strax replied. "If this one adapts to you like that, replacing it would be stupid. At most, I can still have a katana made for training or as a spare. But this one..."

He examined the golden details, the purity of the edge, and the stabilized energy within the weapon again.

"This one is worth far more than it appeared."

Zi Bai raised the blade to eye level, admiring the way the cold light of late afternoon traveled along its edge.

For an instant, she did not resemble the creature that had devastated the training field or the ancient mount that had crossed battles beside him.

She looked like nothing more than a woman finding something that recognized her in return.

After so many years spent existing for others—for masters, routes, battles, and expectations—the weapon offered her a kind of silent confirmation.

She was no longer merely Apocalypse, the event, the creature, the horse abandoned somewhere between usefulness and power.

She had a name now.

And apparently, a sword worthy of it.

Strax noticed the silence stretching and lightly touched her shoulder.

"Come on," he said. "You already got a name, a room, and a weapon on the same day. If I leave you alone, you will probably find another cursed valley before nightfall."

Zi Bai slowly lowered the blade, keeping her eyes on it for one more second before nodding.

"All right."

She walked several steps beside him, then stopped and looked at the transformed sword again.

"Master."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Strax turned his face toward her.

The gratitude was not only for the weapon.

It was for everything.

For the name, the recognition, the permanence, and the fact that he still looked at her as something more than a means of transportation forgotten by his own growth.

He smiled, that small and peaceful expression that appeared rarely, but always found space with her.

"You came home, Zi Bai. We will handle the rest from here."