Demonic Dragon: Harem System - Chapter 742

Capítulo 742: Let’s hatch this egg.

Strax stood still for a moment, his hand still outstretched toward the egg, as if he could hear echoes that no other being could perceive. The bluish light that enveloped him finally began to dissipate, dissolving into slow, almost lazy particles that floated through the hall like snow ashes.

Mercedes took a deep breath—because only now did she realize she had been holding her breath for a long time.

Strax said nothing.

He simply… turned his head. First to one side, then to the other. Then he raised his snout slightly, sniffing the frozen air like an animal searching for the right scent trail.

Mercedes frowned.

“Strax…? What are you looking for?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He took a slow step, his tail gliding across the frozen floor, his eyes gleaming a deep blue—still carrying traces of the salamanders’ energy.

After a few seconds, he murmured:

“The next room.”

Mercedes’ blood ran cold—and that wasn’t a metaphor. The air around her seemed to drop a few more degrees.

“The n-next… room? Strax, nothing here seems safe, not even as it is. What makes you think that—”

He raised his hand.

Not to tell her to shut up—but to indicate something above them.

Mercedes followed the gesture.

And then she saw it.

Too high to be natural, too wide to have been made by any creature smaller than a titan, a colossal hole opened in the chamber’s ceiling—or rather, it was sealed by layers and layers of ancient, thick, translucent ice. It was like looking through a frozen window into another world. Delicate fractures crossed the surface, as if someone had struck there forcefully… centuries ago.

Or as if something had passed through there.

The ice seemed to pulse with the same blue that had illuminated the egg moments before.

Strax narrowed his eyes, analyzing every detail, every crack.

“There,” he said, his voice deep, almost distant. “The passage isn’t fully active… but it’s there.”

Mercedes swallowed hard.

“And you want to climb through THAT?! You’ve completely lost it—”

Strax tilted his head, observing the frozen hole with an almost reverent intensity.

“That’s where the tomb wants us to go. The energy I felt is still moving. The egg knows. I can… hear it.”

The egg in his arms pulsed slightly—like a small heart responding.

Mercedes took a deep breath, looking at the hole and then Strax, then the hole again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

But Strax wasn’t.

He simply positioned his feet more firmly on the ground, as if preparing to leap—or climb—or destroy a barrier he didn’t even know could still resist him.

The runes on his tail ignited again, though more softly, like resting embers.

“Let’s go up,” he said, without any hesitation.

And the ice above seemed… to listen.

Strax didn’t wait.

He simply planted his feet on the ground, straightened his posture, and… opened his mouth.

Upwards.

Directly towards the frozen ceiling, as if it were perfectly obvious what to do.

Mercedes blinked twice, incredulous.

“Strax…? Strax, what are you—”

She took a step forward, pressing the egg against her chest.

“What the HELL are you doing?!”

Strax didn’t answer.

But the answer came in another way.

From his mouth—between his newly elongated fangs, between the runes still gleaming on his skin—a thin wisp of smoke began to escape. It wasn’t ordinary smoke; it was dense, white, heavy, like the breath of a mountain awakening after ages.

Mercedes’ eyes widened.

“Strax? STRAX?!”

The air around him vibrated. The floor trembled beneath his feet—not much, just enough to make Mercedes’ heart skip a beat.

The smoke grew thicker.

Hotter.

So hot that the blue vapor swirling in the hall began to recede, spiral, flee from him as if ashamed to exist near that heat.

“Strax, for the love of—”

And then it came.

A blast.

Not an ordinary jet of fire, not a wild blaze—but a solid beam of heat, white and gold, dense as condensed light. The impact made the air explode in waves, pushing Mercedes back even as she was pinned to the ground.

The frozen ceiling didn’t stand a chance.

The ancient ice, thick as walls, cracked in the first second.

In the next second, it began to melt.

But not melt like ordinary ice.

He melted as if being erased from existence—disappearing in translucent rivers that flowed to the sides, evaporating before even touching the ground.

Cracking sounds cut through the air, deep echoes reverberating off the tomb walls.

Giant cracks spread across the ceiling, illuminated by Strax’s own fire, which continued to blow as if it were merely… breath.

Mercedes raised her arm to shield her face, the egg shimmering frantically against her chest.

The entire ceiling began to give way—not fall, but recede, dissolve, open like a luminous wound.

And when the last block of ice finally vanished into vapor…

A colossal new hole revealed itself above them.

Black, deep, and pulsing with blue light in the distance.

Strax closed his mouth slowly, as if finishing a trivial task.

Mercedes gaped.

“YOU… YOU JUST MELTED AN ENTIRE CEILING!”

Strax merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, indifferent.

“It was in the way.” And the tomb, silent and ancient, seemed to agree.

Strax was still observing the newly melted hole when, without warning, he turned to Mercedes.

She was still breathing rapidly, her eyes fixed on the destroyed ceiling—when she felt something touch her waist.

A warm hand.

A firm grip.

Secure, but utterly unexpected.

“KYAA—!”

The scream escaped before she could stop it, too loud, too sharp, and immediately followed by an awkward silence.

Mercedes’s face turned so red it looked like she’d swallowed one of his fireballs.

“STRAX! WHAT— WHY— YOU—!”

She stumbled over her words, trying to hide her face behind the egg, as if that would erase the fact that he had simply grabbed her by the waist.

Strax seemed… completely oblivious to her outburst.

With his left hand, he held Mercedes. With his right, he gripped the egg, lifting it as if it were part of a natural movement.

No hesitation.

No ceremony.

No malice.

Just pure, direct efficiency—typical of someone who didn’t process human nuances even when they screamed “kyaaa.”

“Hold on tight,” he said, as if that explained everything and as if she wasn’t about to die of embarrassment.

“HOLD ON WHAT?!” she protested, shrinking back with his arm firmly around her waist. “Strax, WARN US before—”

She didn’t finish.

Because Strax bent his knees.

His muscles tensed, blue and red runes pulsing across his skin, illuminating the walls.

The air beneath them compressed, hissing like thunder trying to escape.

Mercedes let out another muffled yelp, hugging the egg as if it were her only shield in life.

And then—

Strax leaped.

Leaped like a dragon.

Leaped like an ancient beast.

Leaped with enough force to make the floor tremble and a column of steam rise behind them.

Mercedes saw the entire hall blur.

The hole in the ceiling grew, approaching too quickly. “STRAAAAX!!!”

Her voice echoed through the newly opened tunnel.

Strax’s leap pierced the newly melted tunnel like a living arrow.

The bluish light of the inner runes flickered on his scales as they ascended—and then, in an instant, emerged into the space above.

Mercedes barely had time to blink before her eyes were taken by a sight… completely unexpected.

A nest.

But not an ordinary nest, not something made of branches or stones.

It was a titanic structure, ancient, almost sacred—built from the very millennial ice of the tomb, shaped as if the cold had hands.

Strax landed. His claws dug into the ground, cushioning the impact. Mercedes let out a trembling sigh.

And then they saw.

The chamber was circular, as wide as the previous hall, but much taller, like an inverted well. The ceiling opened into a dome of translucent crystal, letting in a deep blue light that seemed to come from some impossible place—perhaps from the heart of the tomb, perhaps from something buried even deeper.

But the nest…

The nest gleamed.

It was made of interwoven, enormous, curved ice blades, forming a kind of circular throne. Each blade was engraved with ancient, pulsating runes, like mystical veins running across its surface.

Between the blades, bluish vapors rose like sleeping breath.

In the center was a perfect concavity, large enough to accommodate not only the egg…

but also a whole newborn dragon.

Mercedes’ eyes widened.

“This is… enormous…”

Strax didn’t answer immediately. He approached slowly, like someone rediscovering a place they know but have never truly seen.

The ground around them was covered in crystallized ice dust, gleaming like ground stars. Tiny cracks in the walls vibrated with energy, as if the very air were whispering welcomes.

Further on, small sculptures of salamanders—not alive, but made of pure ice—were positioned in circles, facing the center. Silent guardians, frozen in a posture of eternal vigil.

Mercedes swallowed hard.

“Strax… this… this was made for the egg, wasn’t it?”

Strax tilted his head, observing the concavity in the center of the nest.

A soft, almost reverent gleam crossed his eyes.

“Not just for the egg,” he murmured.

“For her. For what she will be.”

The nest pulsed slightly in response, as if it had heard. As if it had recognized the heir arriving.

“I think this is it, let’s hatch this egg.”