Warlock Ch 36. I Hate Being A Gentleman
Damian let out a quiet groan, but he didn't argue. He was way too tired to put up a fight. Besides, he'd gotten used to following her lead by now, but that didn't make it any easier. His arms were already loaded with books, groceries, and potions from their last stop, and his muscles felt like they were one bag away from giving up entirely. He ntally counted how many bags he was holding and then realized he didn't even care anymore.
'Kill … please,' he thought as they trudged along the dimly lit street. His feet dragged behind him, barely lifting off the pavent, and every muscle in his body scread in protest. He was walking more like a zombie than a warlock-in-training, his body weighed down not just by the endless bags but by the strain of the day.
Training had already drained him, and now this? It felt like so cruel, magical workout plan designed to break his spirit.
'I hate being a gentleman,' he ntally complained as they rounded another corner, 'This is worse than a long session at the gym after an all-night shift.' He couldn't rember the last ti his body felt this exhausted, and the irony wasn't lost on him.
By the ti they finally reached the front door of the house, Damian barely had the energy to make it up the last few steps. He didn't feel victorious at all—just relieved to be done with the trek. The mont they crossed the threshold, he dropped the bags onto the floor with a loud thud and leaned against the wall, panting like he'd just run a marathon.
Evelyn, of course, didn't seem bothered in the slightest. She turned to him with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling as she cheerfully said, "Thank you, Damian! You're so strong."
Damian shot her a tired look, not even trying to hide his exhaustion. "I don't want to do that anymore," he said bluntly, still catching his breath. "My muscles are screaming. This is worse than hitting the gym after a long night shift."
Evelyn laughed softly, her tone playful. "Oh, if you're that tired, you could always summon Fenrith to help you."
Damian paused mid-step, blinking in confusion. "Wait… summoning a servant to carry things? Is that allowed?" He'd been operating under the assumption that Fenrith was strictly for battle, not for mundane tasks like grocery duty.
Evelyn shrugged casually, as if the idea was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why not? They can help with other tasks, too."
Damian frowned slightly, still processing this new information. "I thought Fenrith was only useful for fighting. I an… He is a wolf," he said, his brain slowly catching up to the idea that maybe he didn't have to do all this manual labor himself.
Evelyn shook her head, her smile still in place. "Yes, he's great in battle, but that doesn't an he can't handle less exciting tasks, like carrying bags. Summons are bound to you—they'll do whatever you need."
Damian stared at her for a long mont, realization dawning on him. "Could've used that information earlier," he muttered, though his voice lacked any real heat. He was too tired to be mad, but there was a certain level of exasperation in his tone as he followed her into the house and started unpacking the bags.
They both worked to put away the groceries and potions. He glanced at Evelyn, who was effortlessly organizing the shelves.
Stretching out his sore muscles, Damian couldn't resist asking, "You really do this every ti? Carrying all this stuff?"
Evelyn grinned, not even looking up from the potion she was carefully placing on a shelf. "Not always," she admitted with a playful glint in her eye. "Sotis I have my own ways of handling it. But today, I just thought you'd like the workout."
Damian let out a long, tired sigh, his shoulders slumping in resignation. Of course, he'd been roped into helping without knowing there were easier options.
They finished putting everything away. Damian took a mont to glance at her again, sothing flashed across his head. After a few monts of silence, he finally broke the quiet, his voice thoughtful. "You're really nice to everyone, always helping out and being friendly… so why were those combat mages after you?"
Evelyn's smile faltered slightly, her usually light expression darkening for a brief mont. She tried to shrug it off, but Damian didn't miss the way her posture stiffened. "Let's just say… not everyone likes ," she said, her voice softer now, a little more guarded.
Damian raised an eyebrow, not buying the vague response. "Yeah, I rember them ntioning sothing about 'giving their people trouble.' What did they an by that?"
Evelyn sighed, running a hand through her hair as if the question weighed heavier than she wanted to admit. "Because I did give them trouble," she said simply, her eyes briefly eting Damian's before darting away. "A long ti ago. It's not sothing I'm proud of, but… well, I've got a history with those people."
Damian frowned, trying to piece it together. "Wait, so are they from the Evil faction or sothing? Is that why they're so pissed off at you?"
She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "No, they're not Evil. They're Neutral. They like to stay in the middle, keep things balanced. The problem is, balance ans sothing different to everyone. And to them, I'm the one who threw everything off."
"So, they hate you… because you ssed with their idea of balance?" Damian asked, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "That seems… extre."
Evelyn glanced at him, her face unreadable for a mont. Then she spoke, her voice quieter, almost hesitant. "Let's just say… I also have a past. And it's not a good one."
Damian felt the air between them grow heavier. Evelyn had always been this calm, confident person, always smiling, always in control. But now, seeing her hesitate, it was like seeing a crack in that perfect exterior.
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