Warlock Ch 192. There's No Way I'm Letting You Go That Easily
Damian gritted his teeth. He knew he was right. He could feel it in his gut—the demon king was holding sothing back, sothing big. "I knew asking was useless," Damian muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. "But yeah, there's no way I'm letting you go that easily."
Before the core could respond with another smug line, Damian reached out and touched it.
The second his fingers made contact, the core flared violently, its sigils glowing brighter, blinding him with a surge of raw, burning energy. The mana pulsed angrily, like a living thing trying to push him away, but Damian didn't budge. He dug in, his hand tightening around the pulsing artifact as if daring it to fight back harder.
"Now give back my mory fragnt about Victoria and her husband!" he roared.
The void around him shattered like glass. In a blink, the suffocating darkness was gone, replaced by sothing far more real. The sll of smoke and blood hit him first, acrid and thick in the air. His vision swam before snapping into focus, and Damian realized he was back in that throne room—but it wasn't exactly as he rembered it.
This ti, the chaos was just starting.
The massive chamber was a battlefield. Stone pillars had cracked under the weight of spells, debris littered the obsidian floor, and the heavy air buzzed with leftover energy from so destructive clash. The massive mural that lood over the throne was still intact, though scorch marks marred its surface. And then Damian saw him—a noble vampire.
The vampire stood in front of him, his presence dark and commanding. He was tall and elegant, draped in fine robes that might've looked regal if not for the dark stains of blood sared across them. His face was pale and sharp, his crimson eyes glowing faintly with mana. Blood dripped from a gash along his forehead, and his breaths were labored, but there was no mistaking the power that still radiated from him.
But it wasn't just him.
Damian could feel soone behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder, his breath catching. Victoria was there—wounded, blood seeping from a nasty cut along her side. Her face was pale, her expression a mixture of pain and fury, but her eyes were sharp, calculating. And… she wasn't standing next to her husband.
She was behind Damian, kneeling in pain.
"...What the hell?" Damian whispered under his breath. His eyes darted back to the vampire noble, whose smirk widened as if sensing his confusion.
"Kaelan," the vampire sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're still standing? I must say, I'm impressed. I thought the great warlock would've crumbled by now." He wiped the blood from his lip, his smile sharp and taunting. "But look at you. No better off than the rest of us."
Damian blinked, instinctively tightening his grip on the mana flaring around him. His hands glowed faintly with blue energy—Kaelan's power, his power. The pain of his injuries beca apparent, though he hadn't noticed them before. His ribs ached, and his breathing was uneven. Cuts lined his arms, and his robes were torn, soaked in blood.
The vampire laughed softly, a cruel sound that echoed through the broken room. "The mighty Kaelan," he repeated mockingly. "You act so high and mighty, so righteous, but tell —what drives you? Power? Glory? Or maybe you're just like the rest of us, clawing for scraps in this broken world."
Damian's brows furrowed as the words hit him, and Kaelan's voice—not his own—rumbled from his throat. "You know nothing of , bloodsucker." The voice was sharp, cold, and commanding, filled with the weight of soone who had stared down death too many tis. "Spare your nonsense. I don't align myself with weaklings."
The vampire smirked, his fangs glinting. "Weakling? Oh, Kaelan, you're no better than . You think wielding that demon king makes you better? It only makes you dangerous. I see the thirst in your eyes, the hunger for more." He raised a bloodied hand, and dark red mana began to swirl around him like a storm. "Why not join ? Together, we could seize everything—power, immortality, freedom."
Damian snarled, energy crackling around his fists. "I don't join those who crawl in the dirt. Power ans nothing if you've already sold your soul."
The vampire's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. "Then you're a fool." Without warning, he thrust his hand forward, and the swirling blood mana exploded toward Kaelan like a tidal wave.
Damian's instincts flared to life, and he reacted before he even realized it. His hands shot out, summoning a barrier of crackling blue energy that slamd into the vampire's attack. The two forces collided with a deafening boom, the shockwave rattling what was left of the throne room. Stone fragnts flew through the air, the walls groaning under the strain of the magical clash.
"Victoria!" Damian's voice barked, his tone sharp. "Stay back!"
Damian could hear her shifting behind him, but he didn't turn around. His focus was locked on the vampire, whose expression twisted into one of gleeful malice as he poured even more power into his spell.
"You think you can stop ?" the vampire roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You, Kaelan, who tears through the world like a storm and calls it justice? Don't pretend you're any different from !"
"Shut up!" Damian shouted—though he wasn't entirely sure if it was him or Kaelan speaking. His mana flared brighter, and with a roar of effort, he pushed back. The blue energy surged forward, shattering the vampire's blood spell like glass.
The vampire staggered, his eyes wide in shock. "You—"
Damian didn't give him the chance to finish. He lunged forward, the mana surging through his veins like liquid fire. His movents were fluid, instinctive—Kaelan's movents. A ball of crackling blue magic ford in his hand as he closed the distance between them.
"Too slow," Damian growled, slamming the spell into the vampire's chest.
The impact was devastating. The vampire scread as the magic detonated, sending him flying across the room. He crashed into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone, his body slumping forward as smoke rose from his chest. For a mont, the room was silent except for the sound of Damian's ragged breathing.
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