Warlock Ch 190. He Let Live
Victoria studied him for a long mont, her eyes narrowing slightly, but the smirk never left her face. Then, with an almost theatrical sigh, she stood up, her movents graceful and deliberate. "The Evil One," she began, her tone shifting to sothing more serious. "It's a na that carries so much cri in our world. Fear. Hatred. And for so…" Her gaze flicked to Damian, lingering for just a beat too long. "Power."
Damian swallowed hard, forcing himself to maintain a neutral expression. "Power, huh? Sounds intense."
She stepped away from the desk, pacing slowly. "The Evil One," she said again, her voice softer now, almost reverent, "is the na given to a being who turned the magic world upside down. So said he was a monster who defied every rule, every law of our kind. And yes, he killed my husband."
For a mont, Damian wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to push for more, to ask the questions burning in his mind, but sothing in her tone gave him pause. She wasn't angry. She wasn't even sad. If anything, she seed… calm. Too calm.
And then he saw it. A flicker in her eyes, fleeting but unmistakable. It wasn't revenge. It wasn't grief. It was sothing far more unsettling… obsession.
"That must've been… rough," Damian said carefully, his voice softer now. "Losing soone like that."
Victoria turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "It was," she said simply. "But what's more intriguing is what ca after. Or rather, what didn't co after."
Damian tilted his head, feigning confusion. "What do you an?"
"The Evil One spared ," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "He killed my husband. Slaughtered countless others that night. And yet, when it ca to …" She trailed off, her eyes distant, as if she were reliving the mont. "He let live."
Damian's stomach twisted. He wanted to ask why, to demand answers, but the words wouldn't co. Instead, he opted for sothing safer. "That's… odd," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "Any idea why?"
Victoria's lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile. "No," she simply said, her tone almost teasing.
Damian shifted uncomfortably. He could feel her gaze, like she was searching for sothing in him. "And, uh… what do you think?"
Her smile faltered, just for a mont. "I think," she said slowly, "that it wasn't rcy. The Evil One was not a rciful creature. If anything, it was… deliberate. Calculated. As though he had a plan for ."
"A plan?" Damian repeated, his mind racing. "What kind of plan?"
"That," she said, her smile returning, sharper than ever, "is what I intend to find out."
Damian observed her. She wasn't just obsessed—she was determined. Whatever her endga was, it wasn't going to be simple. Or safe.
"But you've never confronted him?" Damian asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Victoria let out a soft laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Confront him? Damian, do you think a man like that can be confronted? He is gone already, but I know he is sowhere, waiting."
Damian's mouth felt dry. "And you're okay with that?"
Her smile widened, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Let's just say I've learned to be patient."
The room fell into an uneasy silence. He wanted to say sothing, anything, to break the tension, but his thoughts were a tangled ss.
Victoria tilted her head, her gaze piercing. "You seem… uncomfortable. Is there sothing you're not telling ?"
"What? ? Nah," he said quickly, forcing a laugh. "Just trying to process all this. I an, 'The Evil One'? That's so heavy stuff."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't press the issue. "Indeed," she said, turning back to her desk. "But enough about the past. If you truly wish to learn more, I suggest you speak with your master. Cassius has a way of… withholding information when it suits him."
Damian nodded slowly, his mind racing. "Yeah, I'll, uh… I'll do that."
Victoria smiled again, though it was as sharp as a blade. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse , I have matters to attend to. We'll talk again later."
Damian took the hint, backing toward the door. "Right. Thanks for the… history lesson."
"Anyti," she said smoothly, her eyes following him until the door closed behind him.
Once he was out of the room, Damian leaned against the wall, letting out a shaky breath. His heart was pounding, his thoughts a chaotic ss. Whatever Victoria was hiding, it was bigger than he'd imagined. And sohow, he was right in the middle of it.
'She knows more than she's letting on,' he muttered to himself. 'But what the hell am I supposed to do with that?'
Damian shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged back toward his quarters, his thoughts spiraling in a hundred directions at once. Every word Victoria had said replayed in his mind, but it wasn't just the words—it was her tone, her expressions, the way her eyes had seed to linger on him just a fraction too long. There was sothing there, sothing beneath the surface that she wasn't saying. And that sothing was driving him insane.
The door to his quarters lood ahead, and he pushed it open with a little more force than necessary. The room greeted him with its cold, pristine silence, a contrast to the noise in his head. He let the door shut behind him with a soft click and leaned against it, rubbing his face with both hands.
"What am I missing?" he muttered, his voice muffled. "What the hell is she playing at?"
He threw himself onto the plush, slumping back with a groan, his mind churning.
Victoria's words weren't adding up. She talked about The Evil One—him, probably—with this weird mix of detachnt and fascination. There was no anger, no grief, no thirst for revenge. Just… obsession. Why? Why was she so calm about it? Why wasn't she raging at him, accusing him, or even outright trying to kill him?
And then there was the glaring hole in her story. She didn't say a damn thing about what happened after her husband died. She'd ntioned being spared, sure, but the way she skimd over it made it feel like there was a lot more to that night than she was letting on.
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