Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 115: Get Out!

Warlock Ch 115. Get Out!

The artifact didn't respond, spinning slowly as its glow flickered like an irritated sigh. Damian stepped closer, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "You're hiding something," he said, his voice steady but firm. "And I'm not letting this go."

Still, the artifact remained silent, its light dimming as if it were retreating into itself.

"Come on," Damian said, his tone coaxing. "You've already let a lot slip. You might as well tell me the rest. What are you so afraid of? It's not like I'm going to throw you away. You're literally stuck with me."

No response.

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Damian groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Seriously? You're just going to sit there and sulk?"

The artifact pulsed faintly, almost like a mocking shrug.

"Fine," Damian said, his voice tinged with frustration. "Let's play it your way. If you won't talk, I'll just figure it out myself. And when I do, don't come crying to me when you don't like the answers."

The artifact's glow flickered, almost like it was laughing again, but it didn't say a word. Damian turned away, his thoughts racing as he tried to piece together the fragments of memory and information he'd uncovered so far.

'If this thing really was something I defeated in the past… why is it tied to me now?' he thought, his brow furrowing. And how does that connect to my rebirth?'

He paused, glancing back at the artifact. It hovered silently, its light steady but faint, like it was waiting for something. Damian's jaw tightened. He didn't trust it—couldn't trust it—but he couldn't ignore it either. It was part of him now, whether he liked it or not.

"All right," he muttered, his voice low. "If you won't help me, I'll find the answers myself. But don't think for a second that I'm letting this go."

A wicked grin spread across Damian's face, one that even he didn't entirely recognize. Something inside him stirred—a mix of defiance, curiosity, and pure stubbornness. He extended his hand toward the artifact, his fingers crackling faintly.

"And I'll find out now," he said, his voice dripping with determination.

The artifact's light flared, pulsing wildly. "Get away from me!" it shouted, its tone bordering on panic.

But it was too late. Damian's hand connected with the artifact's surface, and the world around him shifted violently. A surge of power rushed through him, and he felt like he was being pulled apart and put back together all at once.

The void was gone.

Damian found himself standing in a massive throne chamber, the air heavy with the stench of blood and death. The scene before him was gruesome—piles of corpses lay scattered across the marble floor. Warriors, mages, and creatures of all kinds—demons, humans, elves, fae—were strewn about like discarded dolls. Their weapons lay abandoned, coated in blood and ichor. The chamber's walls were adorned with shattered banners and cracked stone, evidence of a battle so ferocious it had torn the place apart.

The throne itself loomed at the far end of the room, a grotesque, spiked monstrosity that seemed to radiate malice. Sitting upon it was the Demon King, his towering form oozing an aura of power and darkness.

This was just part two of what he was dreaming about last night. But this one was more vivid. He could see around him more clearly.

"What the…" Damian whispered, his voice barely audible as his eyes darted around the room. He looked down at his hands and froze. They were coated in blood—thick, crimson streaks that weren't entirely his own. His arms trembled as he raised them, the faint sting of countless cuts making him wince.

The pain in his body became sharper, more immediate. His muscles screamed with exhaustion, and his breath came in ragged gasps. His knees wobbled, threatening to give out. But what struck him the most was the overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

'When did this happen? Why don't I remember it?'

The Demon King's laughter snapped him out of his thoughts. Damian's gaze shifted, locking onto the monstrous figure on the throne. The Demon King's body bore countless wounds—deep gashes and punctures that should have been fatal. Yet, before Damian's eyes, the wounds began to close, flesh knitting together with unnatural speed.

"You won't be able to defeat me," the Demon King growled, his voice a mix of rage and amusement. "Never!"

Damian's eyes widened. The Demon King's regenerative abilities were legendary, but this… this was something else. This speed of healing bordered on immortality.

'There's no way I can beat him,' Damian thought, his heart sinking.

But then something shifted inside him. A spark of defiance ignited in his chest, drowning out the fear and doubt. His lips curled into a smirk, a glint of determination flashing in his eyes. "I'm not done yet!" he shouted, his voice carrying through the chamber.

He tightened his grip on the weapon in his hand—a long blade he hadn't noticed before but felt eerily familiar. Its edge shimmered with dark energy, and he instinctively fell into a battle stance, ignoring the protests of his aching body.

'I have… a weapon?' he thought in confusion.

"Let's go!" Damian roared, charging forward.

The Demon King leaned forward, his crimson eyes narrowing as he raised a hand. Dark magic swirled around him, forming into a massive projectile that he hurled straight at Damian.

'Move!' Damian's instincts screamed. He dodged to the side, the blast missing him by inches and exploding against the chamber wall. The force of the impact sent shards of stone flying, but Damian kept moving, his feet pounding against the blood-slicked floor.

Just as he closed the distance, raising his blade for a strike, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Get out!"

It wasn't the Demon King's voice. It was familiar yet foreign—sharp and commanding.

The sound startled Damian, his concentration faltering. His grip loosened, and he stumbled, his forward momentum carrying him dangerously close to the Demon King. The monstrous figure sneered, raising a massive clawed hand to strike.

The voice came again, louder this time. "GET OUT!"