Warlock Ch 117. Troublemaker
Damian looked up, his grin spreading wide despite the pain still wracking his body. "Sorry, Cas," he said, flashing a toothy, innocent smile. "You're the only one I can count on."
Cassius rolled his eyes, stepping fully into the room and crossing his arms. "I still don't understand why anyone bothers with a troublemaker warlock like you," he muttered, his words clipped. "You're more headache than you're worth."
Damian shrugged, the motion making him wince slightly. "Don't ask ," he said, leaning back against the headboard. "I'm just being . I guess I'm just that charming." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, tilting his head up and flashing what he probably thought was a winning smile.
Cassius's face contorted in disgust, his frown deepening. "You know you look like an undead corpse right now, don't you?" he said, his voice dry as sandpaper.
Damian blinked, then glanced at the mirror across the room. His smile faltered instantly. The pose—ant to exude effortless confidence—looked more like a shambling ghoul trying to flirt with its prey. His pale complexion, the dark circles under his eyes, and the bandages didn't exactly scream "charming rogue."
Lowering his hand with an exaggerated sigh, Damian muttered, "Right."
Evelyn let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You're both impossible," she said, her voice tinged with affection. She reached for a cloth and dabbed at Damian's forehead, her touch gentle. "You should rest. You're not going to heal overnight."
"Resting is so boring," Damian grumbled. He waved a hand lazily at Cassius. "Besides, I've got bigger problems to deal with. Like, why the hell am I reborn? What's the deal with that Demon King? And my Mana Core—why does it look like so ancient artifact, can talk, and act like a total bully?"
Cassius and Evelyn exchanged a glance in confusion. Finally, Cassius folded his arms and leaned against the wall, his sharp gaze locking onto Damian.
"You don't know?" Cassius asked, his voice calm but laced with suspicion.
"No," Damian replied, sitting up a little straighter despite the protest of his wounds. "Do you?"
Cassius let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing. "You're telling you have no mory of any of it?"
Damian tilted his head. "If I did, would I be asking?"
Evelyn sighed, her expression softening as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Damian… You told you turned your Mana Core into an artifact and bound it to your soul. You were very clear about that decision."
Damian blinked, his brow furrowing. "I said that?"
Evelyn nodded. "Yes. But you never explained why."
He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't rember that at all. What about the system? Do you know anything about that?"
Cassius's lips twitched into sothing resembling a smirk. "Oh, I know plenty. Because you wouldn't shut up about it. You were rambling for days about 'future discoveries' and 'revolutionizing magic.' You said it would help mages track their power and grow stronger and more efficiently. You even tested it on yourself."
Damian's jaw dropped. "I made the system?!"
"Apparently," Cassius said with a shrug. "You explained it to in excruciating detail—how it worked, what it could do, why it was important—and then you had the audacity to make explain it all back to you later. Like now."
Evelyn couldn't help but laugh softly. "That sounds exactly like you."
Damian groaned, slumping back against the pillows. "I seriously don't rember any of this. What about the rebirth? Why would I even attempt sothing like that?"
Evelyn's smile faded, and she shook her head. "We don't know. You never told us why. All we got was a ssage—short, cryptic, and completely infuriating."
Cassius nodded. "A magic ssage from you. You said you were going away for a while, disappearing from the wizarding world to Nullis. You said if you didn't return within twenty years, we should start looking for you there."
"That's it?" Damian asked, incredulous.
"Pretty much," Cassius said. "You added that you'd give us a sign if you needed help, and then you were gone."
Evelyn chid in, her voice soft. "You also sent a box with the amulet you're wearing now. You said it was important—that I should hold onto it until we t again, and only you could open it."
Damian huffed, running a hand through his ssy hair. "This keeps getting weirder and weirder. How about the Demon King? I don't rember ever fighting him."
Cassius's eyes narrowed, and for the first ti, there was a hint of sothing like irritation in his voice. "Oh, you rember," he said. "You not only fought him, but you killed him. And then you took over his throne and proclaid yourself a Demon King."
Damian blinked. "What?! No way—"
Cassius held up a hand. "Oh, it gets worse. You pissed off half the demon realm. There were clashes, uprisings, rebellions—you na it. You seriously went overboard."
Damian opened his mouth to protest but stopped short, his brow furrowing as fragnts of his visions ca rushing back. He rembered standing in that blood-soaked throne room, his body aching and his hands trembling. He rembered the Demon King's mocking laughter, his defiance.
And then he rembered his own voice.
"I guess I can give it a shot to be a king of your kin."
His face turned a shade paler. "Okay… maybe that sounds like sothing I might've said," Damian admitted reluctantly. "But it was because the Demon King was a jerk. He was an arrogant bastard."
Cassius gave him a flat stare. "Yeah," he said dryly. "And you, a self-proclaid Demon King, were so much better, right?"
Damian's lips parted, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he closed his mouth with a sulky expression. "I an… I wasn't that bad," he muttered, though he didn't sound convinced.
Cassius arched his brow. "Tell that to the half of the demon realm that rebelled against you."
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