Warlock Ch 304. Umbral Decay Venom
Her lips parted in protest, but before she could argue, he moved. Swift, precise. His fingers skimd over her arms, then her sides, checking for anything out of place.
Selena stiffened. "Damian—!"
He ignored her, pushing forward. His hands found her shoulder, pressing into the muscle—and she flinched.
A sharp inhale. A reaction too quick, too raw.
His gaze snapped to hers. Caught.
"There it is," he muttered.
Selena clenched her jaw, trying to turn away, but Damian didn't give her the chance. His grip shifted, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt, and with a quick tug, he pulled it aside to expose her shoulder.
Selena let out a strangled sound, her face flushing as she twisted violently. "The hell do you think you're—?!"
"Shut up," Damian said flatly, eyes locking onto the wound.
And there it was.
The scratch from the assassin's blade, the one that had been sealed by the potion, was blackened. It wasn't a normal wound anymore. Even though the potion had healed the skin, a deep corruption spread beneath it, veins darkening unnaturally.
Damian felt a slow wave of fury ripple through him.
Poison.
A slow-acting, high-grade venom. One that had slipped through the cracks of their healing items. And if she was showing symptoms now, that ant it had been working in the background for a while.
This duel wasn't just a test.
It was an execution.
Selena sucked in a sharp breath, realization flickering in her violet eyes as she stared at her shoulder. "No…" she whispered.
Damian pressed his lips into a thin line.
She must have been poisoned back in the first segnt. The wound had closed, but the poison had already seeped into her system. And whoever orchestrated this had counted on her pushing herself to the limit, weakening her until it kicked in at the worst possible mont.
Here. Now.
In front of a watching audience.
Damian could already imagine the optics. If she collapsed mid-fight, they'd say she simply wasn't strong enough. If she died, they'd say it was because she couldn't handle the exam. No one would question it. No one would investigate.
It was perfect. And they could fra Damian as the killer to the Fae Tribe.
And it pissed him off.
"Damn it," Damian muttered under his breath. His eyes darted over Selena's paling face as he activated [Observation], scanning her vitals. The results appeared in his mind like a flood of unwanted information, and his stomach twisted.
[Status: Critical Condition]
[Poison Detected: Umbral Decay Venom]
[Progression: Advanced – Approximate Ti Until System Failure: 8 minutes, 42 seconds]
[Effects: Gradual mana depletion, organ deterioration, paralysis upon final stage]
His pulse pounded in his ears. Eight minutes. Not even ten. If she had just been infected, he could've done sothing. But this poison had already been in her system for hours—slow, insidious, gnawing at her from the inside out while she fought, ran, and pushed herself past her limits.
And now, ti was up.
Selena's breath ca out shallow, her pupils slightly unfocused as she tried to blink away the haze clouding her vision. "You're staring," she murmured, voice weaker than before. "What's wrong? Am I that ugly now?"
Damian clenched his jaw. "Not now, Princess," he muttered. His hands hovered over her shoulder, his mind racing for a solution. But deep down, he knew—there was none. If she didn't get imdiate intervention from a proper healer, she was dead before the tir ran out.
Selena must have noticed the shift in his deanor because she frowned. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, Damian turned sharply toward the officials, toward the high council mbers watching the duel with an air of detached amusent. His voice cut through the tense silence like a blade.
"She's poisoned," he announced. "She has less than ten minutes to live. Call off the duel and get a healer in here," he stated again.
A murmur rippled through the audience, heads turning, whispers growing in volu. But the officials remained stone-faced.
"The match will continue," one of the examiners stated flatly. "We do not interfere once the crystal has been activated," he continued.
Damian's hands curled into fists. "You don't interfere? You're telling you're just going to sit there and let her die when you know this isn't a fair fight?" His voice rose with each word, frustration mounting.
"The rules are absolute," the examiner repeated. "The crystal has been engaged. The only way out is to win or lose."
"Are you serious?!" Damian barked. His entire body burned with rage, his vision tunneling on the apathetic bastards sitting in their pristine seats, watching this like it was so damn show.
"Her death will be recorded as a forfeit," another official added, as if that was supposed to bring him any comfort.
He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.
'Of course.' This wasn't about the duel anymore. It wasn't even about the exam. This was a setup. A perfect opportunity to eliminate a high-profile fae princess without directly interfering. And if she happened to die at the hands of another participant? Even better. The fae would have their scapegoat.
Him.
Selena frowned as she tried to sit up, her limbs sluggish. "Why do you care so much?" she muttered.
Damian exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before turning back to her. "Because I don't like being used, Princess."
"You can't," she breathed. "Not this ti."
He gritted his teeth. 'Like hell I can't.'
His eyes swept over the audience, searching for one particular person. Alric.
And there he was, standing near the examiners, his usually composed face twisted in panic. Damian saw him hastily summon a magic ssenger, the glowing sigil forming in the air before it shot off into the distance. Probably to Selena's father. Or soone with enough authority to override this nightmare. At the sa ti, Alric was arguing—no, shouting—at the examiners, his voice rising over the murmurs of the crowd.
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