"Hopefully, I'll get something nice. A noble meal." Damien whispered to himself.
The sun sank lower in the sky as Damien strolled through the lively streets of the town, his silver hair catching the light and his calm demeanor drawing gazes from every corner.
Word had spread quickly—he was the one who had returned with a dozen captives freed from the clutches of demons, and he bore no visible injuries.
To the townsfolk, he was a mysterious hero, a savior who had somehow emerged unscathed from a mission that would have been suicidal for most.
Of course, none of them knew the truth. Beneath his composed exterior, Damien's body ached with lingering injuries from his fierce battle with the Grade Three demon.
Each step sent a dull throb through his muscles, but he refused to let it show. He wasn't about to let the town know how close he had been to breaking.
