Warlock Ch 9. Who Can I Trust?
"Let me finish it," Damian said, his voice steadier than it had been all night. He could feel the pulse of magic in his veins, stronger now after the fight, his confidence growing.
Evelyn gave him a quick nod, stepping aside, her hands lowering as she let him take control.
The final shadow flickered, its form barely holding together. It was weak, desperate, its HP bar hovering above it, just a sliver of red remaining.
Damian focused, pulling the magic into his palm one last time. The energy gathered quickly, swirling with a dark, purple glow, crackling in the air. With a deep breath, he thrust his hand forward, releasing the [Dark Bolt] straight into the core of the creature. The impact was instant—the shadow screeched, its form collapsing into smoke as the final hit drained the last of its HP.
It dissolved into nothing, vanishing from the room as though it had never existed.
Damian stood there, breathing hard, his heart pounding from the adrenaline and magic coursing through him. His hand lowered slowly, the mark on his palm dimming as the fight came to an end.
Evelyn stepped up beside him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Not bad, rookie," she said, her voice lighter now that the danger had passed.
Damian let out a breathless laugh. "I can't believe I actually did that."
As if in response to his victory, a notification flashed in his vision.
[Congratulations! You have leveled up to Level 3.]
Stat increases:
- Mana Power: D -> D+
- Stamina: C -> C+
- Magic Affinity: E+ -> D
The glowing message hovered in front of him, and Damian blinked at it, trying to process what it meant. He was stronger now. The system had leveled him up. He couldn't help but grin at the sight, the satisfaction of surviving his first real fight making his heart race.
"I leveled up!" Damian said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, amused at his enthusiasm. "It suits you," she said.
Damian's grin faded slightly as a question popped into his mind. He frowned, looking down at his hand where the mark had pulsed during the fight. "Why do I get rankings like E, D, and A, but the shadows had HP bars with numbers? It doesn't make sense. Why do they have numbers and I get… letters?"
Evelyn looked at him thoughtfully before responding. "Monsters, servants, creatures like those shadows—they're bound by the rules in a more straightforward way. They have limitations, and those limits are measured in numbers. HP, MP, attack power—all that can be quantified. "
"And warlocks? Witches?" Damian asked, trying to piece it together.
"We're not bound by numbers like that," Evelyn explained. "Our magic, our power, it fluctuates based on our connections, our emotions, and our experiences. We're not creatures of strict limits. Your HP and Mana can't be boiled down to a number. They evolve, change, grow. That's why you get ranked by letters. It's more fluid, more about potential than rigid stats."
Damian thought about that for a moment. It made sense, in a weird way. Warlocks and witches weren't just following a set script like monsters. They had more freedom to grow, more possibilities. And that excited him.
But before he could respond, a voice cut through the air, chilling him to the bone.
"Well, well... look at you. Leveling up already. Impressive."
Damian's head snapped up, his body instantly tense. He scanned the room, but there was no one there. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, echoing through the space like a cold breeze.
Evelyn stiffened beside him, her eyes narrowing. "Malthus," she whispered, her voice low and dangerous.
The voice chuckled, smooth and confident. "Ah, Evelyn. Always so quick to jump to conclusions. I'm not here to fight… at least, not yet."
Damian's blood ran cold. This was Malthus? The warlock Evelyn had warned him about? The one who hunted others for their power?
"Where are you?" Damian demanded, his voice steady despite the fear crawling up his spine. "Show yourself."
"Oh, but why would I do that?" Malthus's voice was calm, almost casual. "You've just been through a battle. You're tired, confused. No, I think this is the perfect time for us to have a little chat."
Damian's fists clenched at his sides, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the magic still coursing through him, but the thought of facing someone like Malthus after everything that had just happened… It made him uneasy.
"Damian," Malthus said, his voice softening in a way that was almost comforting, almost inviting. "You've been through a lot tonight, haven't you? A normal man, just trying to get through his day, and suddenly you're thrown into a world of magic and danger. That's a lot for anyone to handle."
Damian didn't respond, his mind racing. There was something unsettling about the way Malthus was speaking, like he was trying to lull him into a false sense of security. He shot a glance at Evelyn, but she was already tense, her jaw clenched in frustration.
"You're probably wondering who to trust, aren't you?" Malthus continued, his tone almost sympathetic. "This world is full of liars, manipulators. People who will say anything to get what they want. People like… Evelyn."
Damian's heart skipped a beat, his eyes flicking to Evelyn. She didn't react to the accusation, but her hands tightened into fists.
"You've only just met her, haven't you?" Malthus's voice oozed with charm, like a snake wrapping itself around him. "And already, she's pulled you into a fight, made you risk your life. Don't you find that a little suspicious, Damian? That she's so eager to get her hands on your power?"
Damian swallowed hard, a seed of doubt taking root in his mind. Malthus had a point. He didn't really know Evelyn. She'd saved him, sure, but she'd also dragged him into this world without giving him much of a choice. And she clearly knew more than she was telling him.