noveldrama
Chapter 80: Am I Hallucinating?
Chapter 80: Am I Hallucinating?
Warlock Ch 80. Am I Hallucinating?
The bag seemed to stare back at him.
He exhaled a long breath. "Here we go again…" he muttered.
But first, he needed to clean up. He could smell the scent of sweat and dirt from the training, and he could feel the soreness deep in his muscles. A bath would be a good way to clear his head and maybe wash off some of the tension.
He stepped into his room to grab a change of clothes. Then he noticed something unexpected—his laundry had been folded neatly and stacked by the bed. 'Huh,' he thought, a bit surprised. 'Evelyn, maybe?' Who else could it be? He hadn't seen her all evening, but she must have been here earlier.
A small idea popped into his mind. Maybe he'd make something for her later. He'd already eaten at Cassius's place, but Evelyn hadn't mentioned where she'd gone or if she'd had dinner. He could throw something together when she got home, just as a small thank-you.
With his mind half on food, he walked to the bathroom and started up the shower. The hot water felt incredible, steam rising around him and loosening the tension from his shoulders. But soon, his thoughts drifted back to his dream from the other night. Only, this time, it wasn't the woman's voice haunting him—it was himself? Or maybe it had been someone else entirely, seeing things through his eyes.
"That guy," Damian muttered to himself, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece it all together, "he could use dark power. So… that means he had to be a warlock or maybe a witch." He scrubbed at his hair, thinking it over. "But he could also use elemental spells, which means he was probably a sorcerer, too. Does someone like that even exist?"
Cassius's book from yesterday had covered the basics of each class, so Damian knew a little about their distinct powers and limits. But what he'd seen in his dream seemed… impossible. This person had a mastery that seemed to blur the lines between warlock, witch, and sorcerer.
He thought back to the moment in the dream when the figure had floated, hovering effortlessly mid-air without the aid of a staff or any other support. Hovering was usually the domain of wind elementals or expert sorcerers who specialized in air magic. But he was sure he'd seen him wield dark spells, too. The longer he thought about it, the less sense it made.
"I don't get the concept…" he muttered, frustrated, rinsing the last of the shampoo from his hair. But in the middle of his confusion, he paused, holding his hand up in front of him. Something tugged at his attention, a strange feeling stirring in his palm.
In a flash, he saw it… water, swirling softly just above his palm, spinning in a tiny whirlpool that pulsed with an energy he could feel in his bones. The sight of it filled him with an odd mix of excitement and dread.
He blinked, and the vision was gone. His hand was empty, fingers wet but otherwise normal.
Damian lowered his hand slowly, his heart pounding. 'Am I hallucinating?' he wondered, shaken by the strange moment. It had felt real—tangible, even. But that was impossible, right? Maybe he was just seeing things.
It wouldn't be the first time; when he was younger, he'd occasionally imagine things that weren't there, strange visions and sensations that seemed to come out of nowhere. As he'd gotten older, they had faded, almost disappearing altogether. He'd chalked it up to the trauma of losing his parents in that accident, just part of the baggage he'd carried with him since childhood.
But now, here it was again. The thought made him uncomfortable, like some old, buried part of him was stirring awake. Deciding not to dwell on it, he hurried through the rest of his shower. The books were waiting, after all, and he had plenty to read.
After drying off, he pulled on clean clothes and returned to his room. The bag of books sat patiently on his desk. Damian let out a slow breath and sat down, pulling the first book from the bag. The leather binding was worn, its cover stamped with an intricate symbol he recognized from Cassius's lessons—a symbol representing the fundamentals of Mana manipulation.
He opened the book, flipping through pages dense with diagrams, annotations, and theories. The page was packed with details on how to sense and channel Mana more efficiently, techniques for stabilizing spells, and ways to optimize his control. It was all incredibly detailed, and it became clear within minutes that this would be no light reading. Yet, as dense as the information was, something strange happened.
The moment he began reading, the words seemed to flow into him as if his mind were a sponge soaking up every concept, every subtle nuance. He didn't just read—he absorbed. Faster than yesterday.
He closed the first book after finishing it and let out a long, impressed breath, his eyes lingering on the cover. There was a light frown on his forehead as he stared at the intricate symbol etched into the leather. "Why do I feel like he gave me advanced-level stuff?" he muttered.
The difference between yesterday's book and tonight's was unmistakable. Today's text dove straight into complex techniques and arcane theories he was almost certain a novice like him wasn't supposed to touch.
And yet, for some reason, he could understand it. The text, as intricate as it was, didn't overwhelm him. He wasn't struggling to keep up; his mind took it all in with an ease.
He shook his head and set the book aside, reaching for the next one.
Once he skimmed the initial pages, a strange feeling filled him, something akin to déjà vu. This book felt different, almost familiar. The writing style, the way the diagrams were drawn, the instructions—it was all… known to him, somehow, even though he'd never seen this book before.