noveldrama
Chapter 87: Fool
Chapter 87: Fool
Warlock Ch 87. Fool
'I want to know,' he thought, his heart pounding, 'but I don't think I can take another answer that crushes me even more.'
He turned back to the books, letting their pages swallow him up. Hours slipped by, marked only by the turning of pages as he moved from one tome to the next. Despite it felt like forever, he only ended up spending just another two hours, though Cassius had given him more books than before. He'd hardly made a dent in the pile by the time fatigue began to creep in. But one book caught his eye, drawing him back as his fingers traced over the worn leather cover. It was strange, but for some reason, this book—Kaelan's writing, Kaelan's approach—felt different.
After another round of reading, Damian shut the book. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. 'Never thought I'd get this hooked on someone who writes books,' he thought. It was absurd, and yet… he felt like Kaelan's words had reached him in a way none of the other texts ever had.
But there was something more, something unsettling in that strange sense of connection. He stared down at the book's cover, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the leather, he felt it again—a flicker of déjà vu, these teachings, were a thread connecting him to something… someone.
His brow furrowed, the feeling gnawing at him. 'These books… there are two more by Kaelan,' he thought. But why did he know it? He traced his fingers over the spine, his mind hazy and heavy with exhaustion.
Drowsiness weighed down his eyelids. He stifled a yawn, his thoughts drifting, slipping between questions, half-formed suspicions, and the pull of sleep that was becoming harder to resist.
'Weird…' he thought, the single word slipping from his mind like a feather falling into darkness.
A dark feather to be exact…
But then, the feather seemed to materialize before him. It floated, pitch-black and elegant, twisting gently in the still air before settling, gliding down in his mind. When it touched the surface, it landed on what felt like still water, sending a soft ripple through his thoughts.
The ripple grew, spreading in widening circles, and from its center, something dark and powerful began to emerge. Shadows clawed their way up from the depths, wrapping around him.
Damian felt his instincts flare, crossing his arms instinctively, shielding himself against this strange, dark energy. 'Oh no,' he thought. 'This must be another dream.' He lowered his arms, bracing himself for whatever was to come, and then he saw it.
Before him stood a towering figure—no, more than just a figure.
A presence.
A demon. Strong and majestic, its very aura declared that it was a demon among demons. Its skin was an obsidian black, smooth yet lined with traces of deep crimson veins that pulsed with dark energy. His wings unfurled behind it, feathers darker than midnight. Its eyes burned like twin flames.
The demon grinned, looking at Damian like he was some kind of naïve fool for even showing up here. He tilted his head with this mocking glint in his red, fiery eyes.
"So… you've come, warlock. Alone, aren't you?" the demon drawled, his voice dripping with venom. "No friends, huh?"
Damian's fists clenched. He felt the bite of the demon's words, and yeah, he wanted to fire back, to snap that he did have friends. He had allies. But instead, something else slipped out of his mouth, a colder, sharper retort.
"Alone or not… it's none of your business. I'm here to make sure you don't break our deal."
The demon laughed, deep and slow, like he found Damian's attempt at bravado amusing, even pathetic. "Oh, I don't break it, do I?"
"Yeah, you broke it—twice now," Damian shot back, voice edged with frustration. "Sending chaos out, stirring up conflict, getting everyone riled up just for your stupid ambition." He took a step forward, meeting the demon's stare without a flinch. "You just want to destroy this world, don't you? That's all you want."
'What the hell I'm talking about?' Damian thought. It was clear he didn't have control over his mouth or even his body.
The demon chuckled again, louder this time, the sound bouncing off like it had a life of its own. "And you've just perfectly described what demons do, warlock." He leaned in, grinning wider, showing too many sharp teeth. "What else did you expect?"
Damian's jaw tightened. He took a steadying breath, ignoring the heat rising to his face, and spoke with resolve.
"The deal was sealed. The agreement… it was set in stone." He made his voice hard. "You swore to stop this endless, pointless battle. You swore that you wanted peace, that your kin wanted peace. So why? Why the betrayal? Why did you have to go and destroy it?"
For a moment, the demon's expression shifted—just a flash, a flicker of something less cocky. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that sneering smirk. "Oh, the naivety," he sneered, shaking his head like Damian was some starry-eyed fool. "Peace, you say? My kin, they may have once desired such a foolish thing, but you don't know what true power is, warlock."
Damian's glare was unyielding, his resolve only strengthening. "Maybe not. But I know honor, and I know a promise when I hear one."
"Oh, honor," the demon mocked, eyes rolling dramatically. "You think that matters in the underworld, in the depths where only the strong survive? Honor is for mortals—those who die, who fade away. Demons… we're eternal. Promises? Meaningless."
Damian felt the anger bubbling up. He clenched his fists tighter, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Then why bother with the deal in the first place? If promises mean so little, why make them?"
"Because you mortals are so easy to manipulate," the demon replied, his voice as oily as his grin. "So, trusting, willing to believe in hope and peace. Just a few pretty words, and you're all so eager to trust… even a demon."