Warlock Ch 373. Safe Doesn't Exist Anymore [Part 3]
Damian exhaled slowly, eyes cold. "Am I the monster? Look around you, Alia. How many innocents have you silenced for your own greed?"
She flinched, fists shaking. "It's not like that…we did what we had to!"
Damian's voice softened dangerously. "No. You did what was easy. There's always another choice."
She cried out desperately, flas roaring as she hurled herself toward him, a final, desperate strike. Damian t her head-on, reaching out toward her.
[Blood Manipulation]
Blood surged from Alia's veins, violently wrenching her back. She crashed to the ground, eyes wide with shock and agony. Her flas sputtered and died.
Damian knelt calmly beside her, voice quiet, almost gentle. "Any last words, Alia?"
She glared defiantly through her pain. "Ralvek…he'll co for you. He'll end you."
Damian smiled faintly, cold and humorless. "Let him try."
She stared up weakly, her voice barely audible now. "You really are Kaelan, aren't you? The Demon King's monster…"
He leaned closer, his whisper soft. "No, Alia. You made this monster yourselves."
The final flicker of life left her eyes, silence reclaiming the streets. Damian stood slowly, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face. The protective crystal barrier flickered once more, finally failing and shattering quietly into nothingness, the fight's evidence completely erased.
Two Rank S senators gone.
Damian closed his eyes briefly, exhaling deeply as the pain from his wounds flared sharply. He'd won, but barely. Fighting two Rank S opponents wasn't sothing even he could do lightly. The burns on his side still sizzled faintly under his torn shirt, and his breathing was uneven. His mana reserve, though vast, had taken a hit.
But this fight wasn't just about elimination—it was about misdirection. About warping the narrative before the truth ever had a chance to surface.
He knelt beside what little remained of Hendrik's body and pulled a sealed scroll from his storage ring. It shimred faintly with layered enchantnts—a forged letter, crafted by Evelyn and Victoria the night before. The paper slled faintly of lilac ink and ash, marked with the private seal of a nonexistent syndicate supposedly working in direct opposition to Ralvek's regi.
With careful hands, Damian placed it in Hendrik's satchel, ensuring it looked aged and half-burned, as though soone tried to destroy the evidence before death. He dusted it with a bit of arcane residue—his own mana signature thoroughly cleansed beforehand—and conjured a weak illusion magic trail leading away from the bodies.
"Just enough to raise eyebrows," he muttered under his breath, lips tight with effort.
Next ca Alia. He produced a cracked comm-crystal and slipped it into the inner pocket of her robes, wrapping her cold fingers around it. The crystal had been tampered with, loaded with a one-sided conversation that would appear as though Alia had been feeding information to a rival faction. Her voice. Her words. Her intentions—all expertly fabricated.
"Ralvek will be forced to listen to it," Damian said softly, voice low. "He won't trust anyone now." And if the others found them first… it would paint Ralvek as the villain.
And that was the point. Alia and Hendrik weren't just removed. They were now frad as traitors—rats in Ralvek's carefully guarded ship. The kind of betrayal that seeps into the bones of an empire and poisons it from within.
He summoned his shadow servant one final ti, giving it a short, silent command. The figure dissolved into the ground, set to deliver anonymous tips to one of Ralvek's inner circle—proof of Alia and Hendrik's supposed treachery.
It was subtle. Cold. Cruel.
But it was war.
Damian glanced once more toward the heart of the city, the distant lights of the council chambers gleaming ominously through the thick night fog. Even from here, he could feel it—the pulse of tension. The stench of fear just beginning to rise.
Ralvek's paranoia would now spiral out of control, forcing him to tear apart his own allies, to question every loyal hand that reached out to help him. The beast would eat itself, and Damian would only need to watch—and strike again when the ti was right.
The chaos was just beginning.
"Good luck sleeping tonight, Ralvek," Damian murmured softly, turning toward the shadows. "Because your nightmare has only just started."
Using his [Shadow Step], Damian erged silently on the rooftop, shadows coiling around his form as he surveyed the quiet city streets below. He took a single step toward the darkness, ready to leave—but suddenly he froze.
A distant roar pierced the night. It echoed through the sky, savage and powerful, vibrating the very air around him. Damian's heart skipped, his muscles instinctively tensing as he recognized the sound imdiately.
It wasn't human. It wasn't even magical beasts.
It was sothing far worse—far more dangerous.
Dragons.
He turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing, searching the horizon until he caught it—a faint but unmistakable flash of erald fire cutting across the night sky far away in the east. His jaw tightened as his pulse quickened with a mixture of dread and excitent.
"Shit," he muttered, smirking bitterly. "The dragons, too? Looks like this ss is even bigger than I thought."
The dragons' involvent wasn't sothing he could simply shrug off. They weren't like other races—isolated, proud, and fiercely neutral. Their very presence in Haven City implied sothing terrifyingly significant.
For the magic community, dragons were not just another powerful race; they were legends, beings who sat atop the magical hierarchy, controlling territories rich in ancient mana sources. Each dragon held power comparable to an army of magi. They rarely interfered with mortal affairs, seeing themselves as above petty politics and squabbles. Their neutrality had always been a stabilizing force.
But if they had co now, openly roaring their challenge into the sky, it ant sothing profound had changed. The political balance had shifted enough to warrant their direct involvent. It ant Ralvek's ambitions—and the corrupt factions backing him—had grown bold enough to threaten even the dragons' territory or interests.
Damian clenched his fists, eyes hardening.
It also ant he was quickly running out of ti. If dragons were involved, things would escalate rapidly. Mortal factions, councils, senators, Ralvek himself—every player in this dangerous ga would panic and start making reckless moves. The collateral damage would be devastating.
And that was sothing Damian couldn't allow.
"Damn it," he muttered softly. "As if Ralvek wasn't enough trouble."
He knew exactly what this ant. His next moves had to be faster, more ruthless. If he hesitated now, this whole city—maybe the entire region—could be consud by war.
Damian took one last glance at the distant erald flas flickering against the clouds. The dragons' arrival changed everything. Now he'd have to contend with ancient creatures whose slightest breath could incinerate cities. Powerful, unpredictable, and notoriously difficult to negotiate with.
But it didn't matter. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. He had a mission to complete, allies to protect, innocents to save, and a legacy of darkness to rewrite. If dragons wanted to join the ga, then he'd play his cards even smarter.
With a final, determined breath, Damian stepped back into the shadows.
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