Warlock Ch 302. Final Segnt
"I have it," she said after a mont, pulling a small crystal vial from her pouch. The deep blue liquid shimred inside, swirling like a tiny galaxy. "High-grade elixir. Restores health, mana, and stamina."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Down it. You look like you've been through a at grinder."
Selena shot him a tired glare. "Thanks for the complint."
"Hey, I'm just saying what I see." Damian leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Drink it before you keel over and make carry you to the next round. I'm not that generous."
Selena uncorked the vial with her teeth and tilted her head back, swallowing the potion in one go. The usual effects should've been imdiate—color returning to her cheeks, posture straightening, breathing steadying. But instead, she remained slumped, her chest still rising and falling in shallow breaths.
Damian's brow furrowed. "Weird."
Selena wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Why are you staring?"
"You're supposed to look better by now," Damian said, eyes narrowing. "That potion wasn't so discount garbage. High-grade elixirs kick in instantly. But you? You still look like you haven't slept in a week."
Selena blinked again, slower this ti. "I… feel okay. Tired, but okay."
Damian's stomach twisted. Sothing was wrong. He knew it the second he saw the faint tremor in Selena's fingers, the way she held herself too still. Like she was hiding sothing. Like she was forcing herself to stay upright.
"That's not okay," he muttered. "You know that's not normal, right? You can't possibly—"
He stopped himself when he saw the sharp frown on her face. Her violet eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed.
Selena's voice was quiet but firm. "A question, Damian."
He didn't like her tone. It wasn't accusatory, not exactly. But it was cautious, as if she was trying to piece sothing together.
"Did my father send you?"
Damian blinked. "What?"
"Why are you this worried about ?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "You act like Alric. We've only known each other for a short ti. It was who chose to cooperate with you, rember? Yet here you are, worrying over like I'm your personal responsibility." She folded her arms. "Why?"
Yeah. That was enough to shut him up.
Because she was right.
They weren't friends. They weren't even long-ti allies. Selena had picked him. He had agreed. That was all. This was a damn exam. He was supposed to be focusing on one thing: winning. Passing the S-rank trial. That was his goal. Nothing else.
So why the hell was he acting like this?
Damian pressed his lips into a thin line. "No… I don't know your dad or anyone." He exhaled, forcing his voice to stay even. "I guess I just got carried away."
Selena watched him, unreadable, but didn't argue.
"I just think you should take care of yourself, alright?" Damian continued. "We've been through a lot together. I hope you survive till the end."
She smirked slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "If they really make us fight each other in the final, maybe you'll say sothing else."
Damian grinned, leaning back against the chair. "Well, you know, the falling plan still applies. One of us just needs to fall so the other gets an easy win. No need to kill each other."
Selena rolled her eyes. "So that's why you're nice to ? So that I fall for you and let you win?"
He chuckled. "Not really. But for sure, you're gonna have a hard ti making fall for you."
Selena snorted. "Cocky."
"Confident."
"Annoying."
"Charming."
Selena huffed, shaking her head, but her lips twitched. At least she looked a little better.
Damian exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. His mind kept circling back to the bigger problem: the exam itself. Sothing is off. The poisoned foods and drinks. The constant assassination attempts. And now, the final round looming ahead.
This whole damn thing was rigged in so way.
"You thinking about sothing?" Selena asked.
Damian snapped out of his thoughts. "Just wondering what kind of death trap they're throwing us into next."
Selena humd. "Think they are planning to kill both of us?"
"Probably." Damian shrugged.
"You're oddly calm about this."
"I've been through worse."
Selena studied him, then nodded. "Yeah. You have that look."
Damian raised a brow. "What look?"
"The look of soone who's already died a few tis but just refuses to stay down."
He let out a dry laugh. "Accurate."
The waiting room fell into silence for a mont. Outside, the mana-infused walls pulsed, the energy shift signaling that ti was almost up.
Selena shifted slightly, rolling her shoulders.
"You still feel weird?" Damian asked.
"No," she said. Then, after a pause. "…Maybe."
Damian shot her a look.
Selena sighed. "It's not the wound or the mana drain or the potion or whatever. It's just… sothing feels off."
Damian leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Off how?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't know. I don't understand either. But all my wounds are healed."
Damian frowned. He didn't like that. Not one bit.
"Final Segnt Comncing! Prepare for Battle!"
Damian and Selena locked eyes.
And in the next instant, the waiting room dissolved into white.
The shift was jarring. One mont, Damian was standing in the quiet, dimly lit waiting room. The next, he was thrown into the glaring brightness of an open arena, the atmosphere buzzing with raw mana and tense anticipation.
He landed smoothly, boots scuffing against solid stone. The arena was vast—far larger than he expected—with a shimring mana do encasing it. The barrier stretched high above them, an iridescent shell that pulsed faintly with contained power. And beyond it?
The audiences.
Rows upon rows of spectators filled the stands outside the do, their voices rging into a sea of murmurs, gasps, and low, eager chatter.
Damian's gaze flicked upward, eyes narrowing slightly. He recognized so of them imdiately—high-ranking officials, council mbers, notable figures in the arcane world. Of course they were watching. S-rank trials were rare, and seeing one play out in real-ti? It was practically a once-in-a-decade event.
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